Legend of the Dark Avatar
by FlightyFelon
Summary: With the death of Unalaq at the end of harmonic convergence the world celebrates. Another 10,000 years of peace is begun and the 4 kingdoms of the world have achieved a state of harmony unseen in decades. However, a new cycle of reincarnation has been set in motion: That of the Dark Avatar. Here is the Legend of Yang, a young Earthbender born for greatness and destined for tragedy.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 - The Birth**

The newborn announced his entrance into the world like any other, crying his fear and frustration with all the force his tiny lungs could muster. For a long while, there was no one around to hear. Eventually, the child came to an exhausted quiet, laying in a puddle of coal-black ichor in the remains of his shattered mother. White flecks of bone stuck oddly out of her quickly rotting carcass. Almost on the edge of perception, liquid-black spirits crawled on her remains, sucking greedily with barbed leech-mouths.

All of a sudden, the room filled with a sense of Presence, or more specifically, two presences. One spirit turned to The Other and then back to the newborn. At this point nothing at all remained of the mother, save a thick, cloying scent in the air and a fine, black dust that had settled in the cracks of the wooden walls and between the bamboo slats of the floor. One spirit bent over and gently lifted the baby up off the ruined mattress with slender, translucent-violet arms. Her (for the spirit hitherto known as One came to be something of a mother to the child) flat face tilted lovingly towards the poor child as she rocked him gently. The only features on her visage were slight differences in coloration which could represent wide, almost owl-like eyes and a long, tapered marking to represent a nose.

One's counterpart - The Other - had similar, but more angular markings as well as a hulking body and thick hands tapering to pointed claws. His body was as translucent as One's but colored a deep burgundy. He remained utterly motionless as One cooed softly to the newborn she rocked in her arms. The baby's pudgy, red face; round, steel-blue eyes and soft tuft of black hair covering the crown of his head seemed the picture of perfect peace, despite his bizarre circumstance.

"Yang." One said suddenly, realizing she could speak, "I shall name him Yang." Her voice reverberated in Yang's infant mind like gently plucking strings on a harp. He stirred and continued crying vigorously.

Upon leaving the small, vile-smelling bedroom, One found the main room of the small cottage filled with animals of all sorts. Lichen-frogs and tiger-herons, winged boars, feral eel-dogs, bugs, reptiles and rhino-newts and other swamp-dwelling creatures crowded the low-ceilinged room. They were everywhere, perching on the sparse furniture and hanging from the herb-wrapped rafters, all seeming to strain to catch a glimpse at the newborn Dark Avatar.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 - Two Mothers**

From among the crowd of animals a shaggy, grey-brown eagle-wolf with bright amber eyes stepped forward. She seemed thin and carried herself with the bearing of one who had traveled a long way and birthed many children. One stared at the menagerie of animals with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity common to all spirits. The Other moved forward silently to place himself between the she-wolf and his new son and wife.

"I am Bei Shiba." The eagle-wolf communicated to the room, with a mixture of audible grumbling and mental impression in the manner of animals. "I have been asked to lend the new Avatar the milk meant for my stillborn pups and have accepted the terms of the agreement." She held herself with tight dignity, eyes bright and ears forward, though her nose wrinkled slightly at the scent of decay in the air. For a long moment The Other seemed to appraise the proud beast, then, seemingly satisfied, stepped aside.

In a more-or-less orderly procession, the various animals came forward to present their own gifts on behalf of their kin. The tiger-herons presented a soft nest of bulrushes and swamp-weed with tiny white stars of swamp-flowers tucked into the weave, giving it a soft, milky scent. Bei Shiba retired with Yang to the nest in the center of the crowded room as the gift giving continued.

Many of the smaller creatures offered tiny trinkets and baubles scavenged from the fringes of human society in the surrounding swamplands. Some brought rags to help swaddle the child and to tie about his waist as they had seen humans do in their strange ways. The most valuable gift by far was the gift of an old Eel-dog escaped from a cruel master. Her thick, black hide was scarred in white stripes along her eyeless muzzle and sinuous flank. She sat awkwardly on her rear haunches in the cottage which was much too small for her large form. In her front claws she protected her most precious possession: a single grey egg with stipples of black marking its soft surface.

"Take care of him." She mumbled sadly, settling her only son carefully to One's arms. "I am too old now and my time has come to return to the spirits."

"He will play a great part in the world to come." One said somberly, accepting the large egg gratefully. Eel-dogs lived up to 30 years and as such would make a great companion to the young Dark Avatar in his inevitable adventures. She laid the egg down beside Yang, against Bei Shiba's furry, warm underbelly. Yang awkwardly kicked away from his suckling to roll and press his face against the cool surface of the egg. His tiny hands grasped emptily at its soft covering, claiming it for his own.

Seemingly satisfied, the mother eel-dog snuffled once in the humid air and slunk from the cottage through the open front door, her whip-like tail slinking along after her before she disappeared forever from their lives.

Slowly over the course of the night the creatures presented their gifts and left the new family in privacy. Yang slept peacefully in his nest surrounded by glistening trinkets, a treasure among treasures. Bei Shiba's cream-tipped wing draped protectively over him and the grey egg as silence prevailed in the low-roofed cottage. The floor was filthy now, with mud caking the floor and plastered along the walls and somehow even the ceiling. However, the animals had had the wherewithal not to leave droppings along with their gifts and so the smell in the room was the humid, verdant scent of rain and life.

In silent, efficient movements, The Other set about lighting a brazier with a few bits of tinder already lying beside it. Bei Shiba eyed the fire warily, instincts set on edge even by the tiny blaze.

"What may I call you?" Bei Shiba asked at length, her amber eyes focused on One as the spirit sat cross-legged, staring into the shifting heart of the flames. It occurred to One that spirits were seldom allowed to choose their own names, as humans always seemed glad enough to supply their own. Even if those names were often mocking and misleading.

"I – I'm not entirely sure." Was her initial response, but eventually she came to realize that she had already known. Her name was based in the dichotomy she shared with The Other, to be two halves of the same whole with the purpose of raising the young child she had already come to love with all her heart.

With confidence One gave her name and that of The Other, knowing he would not object. Upon further pondering she realized that he may not actually be able to speak at all which was unusual even for a spirit. Then her thoughts turned back towards something the eagle-wolf had said earlier.

"You mentioned that you agreed to the terms of an agreement to be here. What did you mean by that?" One questioned, turning away from the brazier to meet Bei Shiba's lupine gaze. Her amber eyes seemed confused for a moment, shifting orange light milling in their depths. Quickly enough, as if the expression had never been there at all, her eyes returned to their normal, piercing directness.

"This bargain I have struck with another. All will be made clear in time." Her words rang final in One's mind. And time did indeed pass: The small family lived quaintly deep in the swamplands of the Earth Kingdom in peaceful routine for many years, kept company by the animals and spirits who dwelt there. They knew nothing of their heritage or destiny, only the domestic happiness they shared together.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – Naivety**

Yang could not say how old he was when he learned the distinction between himself and the animals and spirits who shared his home, as there were no seasons in the ever-summer of the swamps. He knew it was before the first hair appeared on his chest though long after he had learned to touch the first of the elements.

He knew that day, despite his youth, the sad truth of his existence: He would never be able to live here forever among the beasts and spirits. His human nature and destiny would not allow it. However, he resolved that this knowledge would not stop him from enjoying what time he had among the playmates of his youth.

Yang imagined himself the guardian and master of all he surveyed. He spent his youth frolicking with otter-geckos, snuffling and digging with winged-boar piglets and flying –yes, flying – with tiger herons. Air, despite Yang's Earth Kingdom heritage, became his closest friend. Together they would slip through the winds that filled the forest canopies, tickling leaf and bough in their mischief. Together they would play the vines and hanging-serpents like chords on a lute in the soft and ancient melodies no human could discern.

Then there were the spirits, endless spirits as manifold and beautiful as the stars in the night sky. There were Spirits native to Yang's homeland, of root and willow and turgid stream, all wrapped in greens and browns and blues to match their aspect. Then there were foreign spirits whom Bei Shiba had told him had made the pilgrimage from their homelands to meet him. Those strange spirits he would greet personally and treat with the utmost respect, as One had shown him to. These spirits were wrapped in opulent gold and magenta and the deep oranges of sunset, great deities of places he had no name for. Some would bring beautiful gifts, not the sort humans might find valuable, but treasures all the same: A perfect tangerine, overflowing with sweetness, or a coal that would burn forever.

Yang would always greet the spirits alongside his family which, of course, included his best friend: Tyaga, the eel-hound. The two of them would often spend entire days exploring and racing the hidden paths of the swamps, then spend the nights talking and sleeping curled together.

"Did you ever wonder why there are two kinds of spirits?" Tyaga asked one night, his thought-words a little blurry from sleepiness.

"No," Yang answered, "what do you mean?" It was unusual for his friend to speak in such a philosophical manner, but he humored him.

"Why there are spirits who shed light, and others who seem to pull it into themselves, like One and The Other." Tyaga continued, musing. Yang had never really considered this before. He had always assumed that the spirits were different from each other just like he was different from Tyaga, and Tyaga was different from Bei Shiba.

Yang had been about to say something before he was cut off abruptly. Tyaga suddenly rose to his haunches, his head swiveling and nostrils flaring as he did when he was trying to catch a scent.

"Something is wrong." He announced, nudging Yang to a crouch. Already Tyaga was much larger than he, but not quite large enough to ride. At that moment One burst through the front door, The Other and Bei Shiba at her heels. Over her shoulder Yang could see orange light flashing among the trees. At first he thought it might be the light of pilgrim-spirits but soon even his feeble human nose began to detect the acrid scent of fire.

Quickly Yang retrieved his silver tomahawk from his cache of treasures. It had been a gift from a particularly powerful ore-spirit, made very light for his small frame with a blade that would never dull. The shaft of the weapon was wrapped in black leather embossed with intricate markings of birds and stars and sky.

"Stay close." Was all One said as the small party left the cottage into the fire-lit night. Bei Shiba took to the sky to guide them and he wished to follow, but he was afraid to leave the rest of his loved ones alone where they were in danger. Or was it that he was too afraid to leave them and was too proud to admit it? He pushed the thought from his head as they sped through the night.

Yang took one last look at his childhood home, sitting squat and defenseless against the approaching maw of flame. Then they rounded a stone outcropping and it was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 – Instigators**

They were not alone in the forest. Now usually, that goes without saying, as a forest is usually so brim-full of life that one could scour its length and breadth and never find a place truly devoid of life. Now, however, all animal life had fled at the first scent of smoke, lending the familiar surroundings an air of oppressive stillness and death.

Bei Shiba was leading them away from the source of the wildfire but Yang could hear shouts ringing through the smoky night.

Human shouts.

Yang nearly stopped in his tracks when he realized, but One had his hand securely locked in hers and was breaking trail at a pace that was nearly too much for even Yang's strong legs.

Behind them came the harsh, grating sound of metal on metal as the humans met in battle. Yang had trouble imagining what possible cause the humans could have to raise arms against each other. Yang had slaughtered animals in the past for food, but even he preferred the sweet and crunchy roots and leaves of the forest's bounty.

Perhaps they were fighting over rights to females, as the boars sometimes did? But no, that did not seem right.

And to burn the forest home of so many creatures in their campaign? _Unforgiveable._

A torrent of black emotions coursed through Yang then, twining around his heart and flooding his veins like maggots in a corpse. He thought he might burn up with all the hatred inside him. He had _never_ felt this way before in his life.

"Stop!" He shouted, yanking his hand hard from One's grasp and coming to a full stop. Overhead Bei Shiba howled and looped back over her suddenly motionless charges.

"Yang, we must run! There is nothing we can do." One said beseechingly after coming to a halt a few steps later.

"No." Yang said, feeling the finality of his word reverberate in his young chest. He found it difficult to meet his mother One's unchanging gaze but he managed. The Other simply stood a little further up the trail, his thick neck and shoulders twisted back to see what the commotion was. Tyaga whimpered a little at the scent of fire and Yang felt a pang of guilt for tearing his brother between his instinct to flee and his drive to protect his family.

"I have to stop this. I have to." Yang stated. He did not know where his confidence came from, or even how he would make true on his promise. He just knew he had to try.

"Then I will come with you." Tyaga barked, lifting his long head proudly though his sinuous tail still twitched with the urge to run.

One barely had time to make an exasperated noise as Yang quickly mounted Tyaga and the pair sprinted back towards the flames.

The scent of fire grew overwhelming the closer they got. The only reason the blaze had not gone out of control was the stagnant moisture that permeated everything in the swamp, though even that was billowing in thick white-grey plumes from the trunks of burning trees, spreading a sour odor among the scents of charcoal and swamp gas. Some of the trees would issue a high-pitched almost-screaming noise before exploding from some great internal pressure. This, too, Tyaga and Yang swerved to avoid as they made their mad dash.

Yang could feel Tyaga's rising panic and exhaustion since Yang's recent growth-spurt had made him a heavy burden. Tyaga's adolescence meant that he would not be able to support his brother comfortably for yet a few more years.

Before they knew it, however, the pair had burst into a glade filled with armored humans brandishing steel and staff against one another. To Yang's eyes there was little rhyme or reason to the fray and he could not distinguish between the two warring sides, especially among the cloying fumes and dancing flames.

As Yang realized he had no idea what he'd planned to do, a great rumbling began beneath their feet, along with the high-pitched scream he had learned to fear.

About twenty arm-lengths to their right a massive trunk burst its bark, sending shrapnel flying into the closest tangle of fighters. Some hit the ground and stirred no more but a few tried desperately to regain their footing before their adversaries could.

It was all to no avail, however, as the great tree had begun its fall, slowly but unstoppably towards the downed warriors. A few saw it coming and braced for impact.

Yang had almost no time to react consciously, but his body was moving without his own volition. He felt the stones in the mud at his feet tense like a muscle which he thrust upward with all his strength. Miraculously, a great out-jetting of stone poured out of the bedrock below the soil to brace the tree in its decent. It strained and crackled as it took the weight of the destroyed and still-burning tree. The trunk splintered and snapped further up along its length, leaving Yang and Tyaga to leap for safety as the burning boughs came crashing down where they had been moments before.

The warriors searched incredulously for the source of their salvation when they realized what had happened, distracting them completely from their earlier battle. Elsewhere the clanging of metal still rang loud as other clumps of fighters raged against each other, ignorant to their fellow's near brush with death.

Yang could not discern the expressions of the warriors from beneath their painted wooden masks, only the glitter of their eyes as they hunched in the shadow of the rocky crag and stared at the boy who was their salvation.

But Yang's work was not done yet.

He felt the Earth once more, sending tendrils of his remaining anger as scouts as far as they would reach. He felt them all with the soles of his feet, though his back was arched, hands twisted in pain at the sudden expension of his power.

One of the tendrils came upon a dam of sorts, holding back the banks of the river he had played in so often as a young child. Doubt plagued him for a moment. Should he destroy his river-friend's home to save these humans? But then he realized his might be able to save the whole forest alongside them, if his plan worked, if he had the strength to make it work.

As Yang pulled, he felt something rip inside him, like a muscle underused suddenly bearing the weight of the world. The banks of the river spilled away as he crumpled to his knees. Tyaga caught him on his leathery shoulders before he could hit the ground, half-howling in distress.

The last thing Yang remembered was the sensation of being lifted in strong arms, as if he were an infant, then nothing but darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 – Terms and Conditions**

Flames roiled, dripping fat, black driblets of doubt in Yang's mind, searing the backs of his eyes and driving the breath from his lungs. He fought the corruption tooth and nail but already it seemed like it was filling him, driving out the boy he thought he was and replacing it with some hungry, bloodless thing. He was becoming like the masks of the warriors he'd saved: Nothing but lacquered, dead wood and aggressive colors, but with no glint of soul beneath.

Just when he could bear no more, a fresh breeze fluttered over his mind, forcing back the oncoming tide of corruption and knitting together his broken pieces. Yang recognized his old friend: Air, whose light hands and whimsical grace could banish any darkness. Then beside Air stood his new friend: Earth, whose endless patience could outlast any plague. Yang felt his eyelids flutter.

"He's awake!" Barked Tyaga, who leapt to his paws. Yang felt his brother's warm, moist snout against his face, prompting him into full wakefulness.

"Enough, Tyaga," One chided, reaching out to calm her second son. Tyaga pulled back and pranced off across their small clearing to expend his energy elsewhere. Rubbing his eyes, Yang could make out The Other and Bei Shiba perched among the blossoming flowers of low-hanging branches above him.

But something was off with the scene. It took Yang a moment to clear the fuzziness from his head enough to concentrate.

Then it all came back to him.

"The Fire!" He cried, sitting up abruptly. Yang regretted that decision immediately and allowed One's soothing hands to guide him back down into his bed of black, fragrant ash. That had been what Yang had noticed being out of place. Everything around them was covered in a thin layer of drifting, grey-black ash. He would have thought it was beautiful if not for his painful memories of the night before.

"The fire is gone, my love." One said, stroking his thick, black hair out of his eyes. The markings on her flat face were unchanging as always, but Yang thought he could detect an unmistakeable aura of pride.

Yang sighed peacefully then, and closed his eyes to let sleep reclaim him.

His dreams had been more peaceful this time, though they dispersed like morning mist before the sunrise when he awoke at Noon a day later.

However, the circumstances to which he arose were not as pleasant as they had been last time – Bei Shiba and One were arguing. Yang slowly lifted himself out of his bed of ashes and flicked some of the excess from the folds of his rough leather pants. Tyaga was nowhere to be found and The Other was standing, stoic as ever, a little outside the glade.

"You saw what fighting did to him, you cannot possibly expect me to send him back to those monsters, can you?" The tone of One's spirit-voice was discordant with anger, like too many notes being played too quickly and all out of key. As Yang turned to look at his mothers, he noticed that One stood looming over Bei Shiba at twice her regular height, undulating waves of violet energy rolled off her body, withering the surrounding plants.

Bei Shiba held her ground, hackles spiky and wings held slightly away from her body, as if in mid-sweep. "You accepted my help in raising the boy, and made promises to me in return! How was I to know his birth was would tear you-?" Bei Shiba snarled, indignant, but cut off when she noticed Yang was staring at them.

Before his eyes One shrank back to her regular size, though the plants around her remained rotted and sterile. She looked around herself, suddenly abashed.

As Yang stood up, Bei Shiba padded towards him through the ash and undergrowth. He had never seen her amber eyes look so uncertain, and for the first time he realized that she looked _old_.

"Mama." Yang said quietly, reaching out to twine his fingers in the scruff of her neck, as he knew she liked. He knew he was too old for tears, but the idea of his Mothers fighting… it was all he could do not to sniffle.

"Hush now." Bei Shiba said soothingly, pushing herself slightly against his palm. She was still larger than he was, but on his two legs her head came up only to his chest.

"I am sorry you had to hear that," she continued and looked back to where One was standing, returning her stare, "but there are things we must discuss, now that you are old enough."

One began walking slowly towards them, giving Yang a moment to ponder the meaning of his Mother's words.

Old enough for what, he wondered. Old enough to destroy river-homes and flood animal holes? Old enough to realize that he had no idea what he was doing, perhaps.

The sun was high overhead, leaking through the canopy into the unusually dry air below. The forest was still too quiet for Yang's liking, with most of the tiny animals either killed in the fire or gone away. The silence sat on his shoulders, further dampening his spirit.

"There is no avoiding it now." Was all Bei Shiba said as One approached. One sighed (or at least the spirit-equivalent of a sigh) and let Yang grasp her slender fingers with his free hand. They stood like that for a quiet moment, reveling in the last few moments of Yang's peaceful childhood.

"Before you were born…" Bei Shiba began but was interrupted as One continued, making it a point that she must be the one to tell the tale.

"I made a promise to Bei Shiba." One said in a tone that led Yang to understand that she did not truly believe what she was saying. "I promised her that in return for her help in raising you, you would grant her one wish when you came into your power." Yang did not quite understand what he was hearing and grew nervous, his fingers tightening on his spirit mother's hand.

"And that time has come, my love." Bei Shiba said quietly, the mental impression of her words stroking his thoughts, almost apologetically.

Yang absorbed all this and took a few steps away from the two of them. He spent a moment admiring the two women-of-sorts who had raised him and in one crashing moment realized their imperfection. He accepted this with a wisdom beyond his years, though he did not know it then.

He breathed in, he breathed out. Like the wind filling the forest, then sweeping past into lands unknown.

"Anything, Mama. Ask away." He said with a confidence he did not feel.

Bei Shiba stared at him, appraising his young human form, his innocent steel-blue eyes, the scent of Power which still lingered on his skin from his labors in Earthbending.

"Revenge." She stated bluntly, her growl echoing in the empty glade.

"I wish for revenge."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 – Will of the Wisp**

The day had dwindled into twilight, and the small family sat in the gloom, enjoying the remains of an over-cooked lemming-gator which had been caught in the fire. Tyaga was proud of his find as they dug in hungrily. One and The Other abstained from the meal of course, requiring no material sustenance.

Nobody had mentioned the Wish to Tyaga yet and Yang didn't plan to. He didn't want him to see their Eagle-Wolf mother as any less than he always had. However, Yang couldn't stop Tyaga from noticing the dark mood in the air.

Best to have it over with quickly then, Yang thought.

"I am going to live with the humans." Yang announced, putting down the marrow-filled bone he'd been working on. Bei Shiba also stopped eating at his announcement though it took Tyaga a moment to process his words. Neither One nor The Other reacted in any visible way.

"What?!" Tyaga yelped, utterly shocked.

Yang tried to act as if his news did not affect him either, but still couldn't settle his stomach enough to resume his meal.

"I said I'm going to go live with my own kind." Yang repeated, not looking his brother in the face, feeling the shame of his betrayal settle on his heart.

"Yes," Tyaga said quickly, "but why?"

Now there was the crux of the thing, wasn't it?

"Look I…" Yang searched for the right words. "I love the swamps, and I love all of you." At least this was true, he thought. "But now that I have seen my own kind, I wish to join them. I'll bet they have eel-dogs with them as well, it could be wonderful." Yang bit his tongue silently at that last selfish remark. Why should he tempt Tyaga to join him in this exile? Did he truly have so little love for him?

The hurt was plain in the way Tyaga set his jaw, having no eyes with which to express emotion. He had been about to say something more when Bei Shiba interjected.

"If that is what you wish." She said calmly, though Yang noticed she could not continue her meal either. Tyaga rose to standing in his indignation, long tail whipping madly.

"How can you be okay with this?!" Tyaga cried, almost whimpering. One and The Other remained silent, but Yang could see a little of that poisonous aura leaking from his spirit-mother's eyes. He had never even known she could weep.

It was a brief affair, preparing Yang to leave the forest. They had no possessions to speak of any more. The cottage had been reduced to cinders, without any hint of the cornucopia of treasures which had been horded within. All that remained was the silver tomahawk Yang had brought with him to battle.

Tyaga would be joining his brother, he had announced. How else could he ensure that he stayed out of trouble?

At last the family stood at the edge of the true forest, the dim lights of swamp-dweller huts glittering like will-of-the-wisps among the trees in the distance.

"I cannot follow you there, my sons." Bei Shiba said quietly, nuzzling them each with her forehead and taking them both in with her proud, amber eyes for what might be the last time. Yang hugged her close, remembering a time when he had thought she was the biggest animal in the world, and the strongest and most beautiful. It was with a heavy heart that he let her go at last and turned to One and The Other. As always, The Other stood placidly a little aside from the group, but One knelt down on one knee before him, putting them at eye level.

"I will be able to join you, but only a little." One said cryptically. "The Other and I will put a little of ourselves into your heart, so you can call on us if you need our help, but we will not be able to communicate otherwise." There was a long silence as One gathered herself for what was to come. The Other came closer to his son, and clasped his hand tightly.

For a moment Yang was surprised, as he had never interacted so directly with his silent guardian before. There was a quick flash of red light and The Other was gone.

Yang looked around wildly but he was nowhere to be found.

"What happened?!" Yang cried, alarmed. One put her hands on Yang's shoulders to calm him.

"He is with you, as I will be, my darlings. I love you both." She said quietly, her voice pulling tears from Yang's eyes. She drew close as if to kiss him on the forehead, then disappeared in a flash of violet light as her counterpart had.

It was just the three of them now, as the coming night wind swept the remaining ash from the rustling boughs above them.

"We'll miss you, Mama." Tyaga said finally, nuzzling his eagle-wolf-mother.

"And I you." She replied. "Now go." She said with finality, casting Yang a look that said: _And remember your promise_. Then with that, she cast off with her great and gentle wings, soaring up and away to howl against the bright moon.

Yang and Tyaga walked through the moonlit forest towards the small town silently. They had been warned that speaking openly to each other would be met with fear and hatred from the humans, but even in their last moments of free speech neither brother could think of anything to say.

The human village seemed to rise right out of the stagnant ponds and rocky outcroppings, constructed on bamboo stilts in a way that was more primitive than the construction of Yang's own cottage.

For a brief moment Yang wondered at the architect of his childhood home, but his thoughts were swept away in the thrill of the moment.

Some humans lingered outside in the bright moonlight and Yang was surprised to learn that they spoke the same language as the animals and spirits. Perhaps they just couldn't tell that it was the same, he wondered.

Tyaga snuffled timidly in the strange smells, for they were nearly in the center of the village by now and no one had taken care to notice them. They paused for a moment, unsure of how to proceed before Tyaga seemed to grab a scent, pulling his long head in a certain direction and leaving Yang to stumble after him in the unnaturally smooth streets.

The village was not too large and before he knew it they had found the source of Tyaga's interest: a stable full of eel-dogs.

In a moment Tyaga realized he had no idea how he might interact with his own kind, especially these thoroughly domesticated specimens idling in their stalls. With a pang Yang noticed that most of their leathery hides were white-scarred, as if they had been flogged.

Yang took the initiative and spoke first. "Hello." He said, keeping his hand on Tyaga's flank.

A few of the eel-dogs looked towards him, seemingly snickering at the foolish human.

"Look at the boy. Thinks we'll talk back, does he?" Said an older female a little further along the line in a snide tone. Yang drew back his shoulders and trotted up to her.

"I _can_ understand you." He whispered harshly, trying to make sure no humans would overhear. Tyaga followed behind him, intimidated by the much larger female.

"Well, what have we here?" Said the eel-dog smoothly, arching her long neck and snout over the gate of her stall to get a better scent-view of him. Thick drool dripped from her open maw, making her fangs glisten white as her scars in the moonlight.

Yang drew back cautiously and was startled again at a new voice which came from behind him.

"Sidda!" Cried the human voice. It was high-pitched and feminine. Yang had never heard such a voice. "Keep away from him, you nasty thing!"

The source of the voice, a girl not much older than Yang, grabbed him unceremoniously by the arm and dragged him away from the stalls.

"You should know better, you-!" The girl stopped in a moment with surprise written plain across her features. Her light hair was thick and a little matted, but gleamed like spun silver in the bright moonlight. Her eyes were deep brown and soft, even in their almost-comical surprise, like a doe's. Thick lashes and comely lips led Yang to decide that she was quite beautiful.

"You're the boy from the fire!" She said quickly, almost shouting.

Yang reached forward to hush her, but she startled as her eyes fell on Tyaga's hunched form, hiding behind his older brother.

"Aie!" She cried, drawing back. "It's loose!" She cast an accusing glance at Yang, adding to his confusion. What kind of creature could change the direction of their emotions quick as a leaf in a storm? A human girl, he decided, that's what.

Then he saw the blade she began to draw from a sheath at her hip. It took all of his composure not to draw his own tomahawk against her from where it lay across the small of his back. Instead he reached out again and grasped her hand firmly in his, their faces only a few inches apart. Her breath was quick and cool, and her eyes steady on him, though he could tell she would rather be keeping her watch on Tyaga.

"Put the blade away." He said slowly, with as much persuasiveness as he could put into his voice, dreading that it would crack. Her eyes flickered with doubt for a moment as he saw Tyaga back away from the knife. Yang truly regretted putting his brother through this. Maybe it was not too late to go home and he could fulfill his mother's wish another way?

No, he decided. It was too late to run home now.

Slowly, she obliged and Yang thanked his lucky stars, loosening his grip on her hand slightly, but not taking his eyes off her. To his surprise, she looked at him now with a modicum of fear and wondered what exactly the stories of the 'boy from the fire' had entailed.

"Crazy girl." Tyaga said in a great gust of breath, almost shaking with residual stress. Yang couldn't help but smile, not helping with the girl's confusion. Feeling that the threat had passed, Yang turned to kneel and stroke his brother's long neck, as much to calm him as to assure the girl that he was no threat.

"Why has he not attacked?" The girl asked timidly, performing yet another feat of emotional acrobatics.

"Why would he?" Yang responded, a little rudely. He didn't like how these 'civilized' humans looked at their eel-dogs.

The girl had no answer to this, and stood there pondering a moment.

"My name is Yang, and this is Tyaga." Yang said, deciding that it was unlikely she would initiate the introductions herself. His greeting seemed to snap the girl back to her senses.

"I'm Chen." She said, drawing herself up and sheathing her little knife again. "Will you come meet my Father? You're the talk of the town, considering how you swooped in and wiped out all those dirty Siiwahs." Her expression was idolizing but her words… Yang did not understand their implications until she had led them to the ladder of her home.

"Up you go!" She said, meaning to head up behind him.

"But Tyaga…" Yang objected, suddenly worried about the types of people he was about to meet.

"Oh," she stopped, thinking for a moment. "Can he wait outside? There's a little hole in our tree he might hide in, unless you'd rather tie him up."

Yang swallowed a bout of temper, feeling those same black tendrils crawling in his fingers, balling them into fists.

"I'll hide." Tyaga said quietly, not wanting to bring further aggression upon himself and noticing his brother's black mood.

"Thanks." Yang replied softly, hating what this human village was doing to his proud brother.

Chen cast a confused glance at Yang as Tyaga padded off towards the hiding place. There was a question on her lips but she did not ask it. Instead, she climbed up the rickety ladder to her primitive house-on-stilts. As he climbed, Yang thought that maybe his mother's wish wouldn't be too hard for him to grant.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 – Thanksgiving**

The interior of the house was larger than Yang would have assumed, but it was crowded with furniture, people and food. Most of the occupants were adult men, burly and strong-shouldered like The Other. However, these men were flesh and blood… and sweat, Yang realized, resisting the urge to hold his nose. Additionally, some of these men looked sick, slouching lethargically on their stools and gazing into their cups lovingly. Yang stored all this information for later analysis and focused on the task at hand. Things were a little easier now that he didn't need to worry about Tyaga detecting his ulterior motives for being here.

"You won't believe who I found, Papa!" Chen cried, bounding across the floor into the arms of one of the rowdy, dirty men at the table. Her father had the same light hair (though shot through with dirty grey) and brown eyes, but his features were more angular, radiating masculinity.

However, even his stern face lit up with shock when he realized who he was staring at. This 'Papa' deposited his daughter carefully on her feet before rising to his own.

"The spirits bless us tonight, my friends!" His deep voice bellowed. His breath smelled sharp, from the mysterious drink, Yang supposed. Conversation along the table ground to a halt, all of them sharing the same look of surprise Chen had worn at first, bringing the ghost of a smile to Yang's lips.

Before he knew it, Yang was being hoisted onto Papa's shoulder and paraded around the small room as the men all bellowed some song in his honor. Not a few times, Yang had to duck out of the way of some hanging lantern or other as the singing went on and on.

At long last the bellowing subsided and Yang was placed in a seat of honor, with a plate of steamed marsh-roots and a mug of that same sharp drink placed before him, like some sort of king-spirit, he thought. The whole table was staring at him expectantly, as if for some great wisdom he might impart.

The silence was as absolute in that moment as it had been absent a few moments ago. With an internal shock, Yang realized this might be his chance to set his plan in motion. He thought about backing out, running while he still could, hiding like Tyaga in the belly of some tree until he aged and died.

No. He would not let his mother down, despite having had no say in the promising of this Wish. He knew she would not ask for this if there were not a good reason.

"I take it that you recognize me." Yang said, a charismatic smile splitting his face. He felt dirty.

This was greeted with a chorus of cheers which took a few moments to subside.

"Of course we do, young Hero." Said Papa, his weathered face still mirthful. Yang tried his best to return the smile and felt the result was at least satisfactory.

"But I do not recognize you, as your faces were hidden from me by masks." Yang continued, forcing himself to take a sip from his mug. The stuff was vile, which he had expected and so it did not ruffle his manners.

"Well," said Papa, "I am Fei, Chief of the Chiyohs you see before you." This sparked another round of cheers and drinking, which Yang forced himself to participate in. Then, Fei grew serious in the lull of noise.

"You saved my life that night, and those of many others when you let the rivers loose, though some here might not believe it." Fei continued, casting his gaze around the table. Some men averted their eyes, a pair at the back discreetly exchanged coins.

"It is my honor, then." Yang said, though he suspected there were still those who doubted his legitimacy, and his head was feeling fuzzy. Another round of cheers, another forced gulp of drink.

"But how did you know where to send the river, to destroy only the Siiwahs?" Came a cry from near the back of the room. Yang's smile slipped, the dizziness creeping up on him.

"How could I control the river?" Yang asked, not realizing his slip.

Silence.

Yang's mind reeled for a moment, half expecting another rousing applause to his words. The expressions around the room ranged from confusion to murder. Chen reverted to her previous, befuddled expression.

"That is of course because," Yang corrected in a flash of lucidity, "the River already knew it was the Chiyohs who must win this war!" He bellowed, letting the men hear what they wanted to in his words. It was a narrow save, as men once again cheered in favor of their Savior. Yang thought he might throw up.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 – Camouflage**

The Chiyohs had all but begged Yang to join their village the night of the feast, bestowing a name from their old language upon him: Shen Zhiwang. Chen had told him that the name meant 'Savior from Death'. Either that or 'Our savior, Death.' The name-giving called to mind something One had once said about humanity's love of naming things they don't understand.

After that night, things had fallen into something of a routine for Yang. He was granted a vacant home where he could live with Tyaga in privacy, though Yang did not want to consider what had happened to the stilted shack's previous occupant.

They filled their days doing odd jobs like laundering, hunting, fishing and even a little farming, though Yang learned he was much better at picking sprouts than planting them. The head-farmer had politely driven him off after inexplicably destroying a crop of water-squash. That seemed to be how most people treated him here: Politely, but not much more. Yang was beginning to think he might never gain the trust he needed for his plan to work.

The one silver lining turned out to be Chen, despite their rocky start. She would come to visit often, and would turn up at unexpected moments to help him with his work. She even began to take a liking to Tyaga, though it would take time to wear away the fear her culture had instilled in her.

Tyaga was even given a measure of freedom compared to the other Eel-dogs in the village, being allowed to walk the streets without leash or muzzle so long as he was escorted by Yang. However, some of the villagers were still at odds with Fei's decree, casting mistrustful glances in the streets and shying away when Yang approached with Tyaga at his side.

They had lived like this for two moon-cycles already, and each night Yang would sit on the porch of his bamboo house and listen to the forest, the thrum of nocturnal life. Sometimes, he would think he heard the baleful howling of an Eagle-wolf in the night air.

Not since that first night had Tyaga returned to speak with the other eel-dogs, though Yang figured his brother would get around to it when he felt ready.

It was a sweltering day in the swamplands as Yang knelt in the rushing stream at the edge of the village, beating the filth out of the rags which the villagers used to clothe themselves. Deep green and scratchy, Chen had tried to persuade him many times to adopt them over his own leather breeches, but each time he would come up with some excuse or other. Truthfully, he did not want to become too attached to life as a Chiyoh, knowing that it could ever only be temporary and not wanting to make the inevitable end any more painful than was needed.

"Fancy seeing you here, Shen Zhiwang!" Called Chen's voice from above. Yang straightened, wiping gritty sweat from his brow as he watched her descend the hill to the rocky stream bed. Her steps were graceful as she flowed down the hazardous terrain as if she were more water to join the stream.

"Please, call me Shen." He said chidingly but with little seriousness in his voice. They had played this game many times before and he didn't expect her to oblige him any more than usual. She smiled and dipped her toes into the lazy current, relishing the coolness. It occurred to Yang that he had never made the conscious decision not to give his real name, wondering if it had been one of the 'little guidances' One had said she could give, even if she could not speak.

"That would not be proper, Shen Zhiwang," she said, enunciating every syllable of the honorific before giving a coy smile and grabbing up some of the rags to help. Tyaga believed she was acting so kindly towards Yang on instruction from her father and had said as much. However, since she was Yang's only real company among the humans, he didn't want to think too hard on what the implications of Tyaga's thoughts might be. Besides, was it wrong to respect your parents? Yang couldn't fault Chen any more than he could blame himself for respecting Bei Shiba's wishes. That, and Tyaga wasn't here right now so Yang could spend his time with whomever he pleased.

For a long while the two of them worked in amicable silence, Chen rinsing the clothes and Yang beating them with a special reed instrument.

"What does your name mean, Chen?" Yang asked, mildly curious. When the silence stretched he looked up to see her no longer working but staring at the water swirling about her knees. Yang hadn't meant to pry, but it had seemed like an innocent enough question.

Just as Yang began to think she would not say, she responded: "It means… dirt." It was barely more than a whisper, and her eyes were soft, but not sad.

"My father had always wanted a boy, and though he has grown to love me…" She didn't need to finish the sentence. Her fingers were still rubbing absently at the cloth in her hands and her smile was only half-cocked.

Yang felt the urge to reach out to her but stayed his hand, his knuckles turning white on the laundry-rod until the impulse faded a little.

"I don't think you're dirt." He said, speaking genuinely from his heart for what felt like the first time in forever. "And besides", he continued, "It's nice that our names rhyme. Chen and Shen, eh?"

As if in answer she let the smile on her lips deepen, and when she looked at him, melancholy no longer clouded her eyes.

"There is something I'd like to show you." She said, tossing her cloth to the shore.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 – Surprises**

Chen took a few steps towards the middle of the stream so its eddies reached about mid-thigh, dampening the hem of her skirt.

Yang didn't know what to expect as she took a deep breath, releasing the air slowly though her nose.

He almost didn't catch the exact moment she started moving. Very slowly at first, her hands rising from her sides, the wooden bangles on her wrists click-clacking together lightly. Her eyes were closed in concentration but no hint of strain could be seen on her features. In flowing, circular movements she traced patterns through the air, swaying in tune with the current of the water with an increasing intensity.

Then, just as imperceptibly at first, the water _responded__**.**_It rose in strings from the surface of the stream, still flowing as if she had not altered their motion, only their path for a short while. They swayed ephemerally about her nimble form in beautiful patterns like starlings in flight – mesmerizing.

The water flexed and bent, parts of it coalescing into a rippling sheet about one arm-length in diameter. From the edges it grew solid and opaque which was something Yang had never known water to do. Its surface was not perfectly smooth, with a few ridges and bumps. However, the polish was immaculate, like the surface of a pond on the stillest of days and for a moment Yang could look back at himself staring in awe. A slight jolt went through him as he noticed the color of his eyes: One violet, The Other burgundy.

Next, the pane of water began to steam from the center and disintegrate in a plume which slowly resolved itself back into those fragile strings, thin as a few strands of hair.

She opened her eyes slowly, the arcing threads of water settling in the rush of the stream with little more than a ripple.

"That's…" Yang tried to say something but couldn't find the words.

"Waterbending." Chen said, her chin tilted up and the sun catching in her eyes. Her hair seemed windblown now despite the stagnant air, its alabaster waves pushed back to reveal the glory in her expression.

"My skill is a secret even amongst our tribe so please, Shen Zhiwang, you must not tell a soul." She lifted a finger to her lips to emphasize her point. Now that the force of Water was not filling her, she seemed the fragile girl she had moments ago. But now Yang knew differently. They were similar, he realized. Powerful and with secrets.

At that moment a cry came up from the town, nearly startling Yang into dropping the laundry-rod he realized he was still holding. The cry had only lasted a moment and was then cut off, which couldn't be good. Before Yang could think to react, Chen had pushed past him and was scaling the hill as fast as she could. In that moment Yang recognized the voice behind the shout and hurried after her, the beautiful spectacle he had just witnessed still playing over in the back of his mind.

Chieftain Fei lay on his stomach. One of his arms was bent over his head at an awkward angle and both his legs splayed as if to brace himself for a fall. Already the dirt beneath him was stained a sticky crimson which was fading to a dull brown as Yang approached, jogging after Chen.

With a strangled gasp, she skidded to her knees beside his unmoving form, heedless of the spreading blood. A great, wracking sob clawed its way out from her, half-scream. She let one delicate hand rest on his broad, hairy back as if to assure herself this was real.

_It is real_. Yang thought, his eyes dry and disbelieving.

As he watched a silver-fly circled once and landed in the spreading puddle of red. It sucked for a moment at its bounty but soon became caught in the sticky flow and drowned for its greed.

Eventually more villagers ran up to inspect the scene and by now Chen was wailing her grief, inconsolable by the women who held her shoulders and try to pull her away. She fought them, scratching and shouting until they gave up and let her be. Menfolk gathered for a while, speaking amongst themselves before one came over and gently pushed Chieftain Fei onto his belly despite Chen's protests.

All of this transpired as if Yang were in a dream. He had seen dead bodies before, of course. He had hunted and killed and eaten his prey as was proper in the eyes of spirits and animals. This was different: Death for the sake of death, and Yang knew it would not stop at this. The overbearing sun pressed down on his head and pushed on his eardrums, turning the contents of his stomach to ash.

There, in Fei's right breast gleamed a bone dagger wedged in to the hilt. One of the men carefully removed it and wiped the blade clean in the dirt. Inscribed in the bone were a series of markings which Yang could not decipher.

The man stared at the markings for a little while, his mouth working out the noises slowly. Clearly the residents of this village did not have much use for the written word.

Yang felt his skin prickle as the man's eyes flicked over to him and he recognized the man as the one who had spoken out against him the night of the banquet. He barely had time to take a step back before the man crouching with the dagger called for others to grab him.

"There is a traitor in your midst." The man spat the meaning of the written inscription at Yang, who now had his arms pinned behind him painfully. The daze of unrealism had still not lifted and was blurring these events as if they were happening to someone else. Chen cried out somewhere but was beaten back. Yang's shoulder bones were grinding with the force of the grip the villagers had on him. For all his Power, Yang was still just a boy and could fight back no more than Tyaga could best Sidda.

As if Yang's thoughts had called him, Tyaga's guttural snarl ripped through his head, shattering the world back into high focus. The pain in his shoulders bit into him with a sudden force that drove him to his knees. The eel-dog leapt into the tangle of humans, causing the women and some of the men to edge back from his wildly gnashing fangs. The pressure on Yang's shoulders lessened slightly as the men behind him balked away from the feral beast.

The standoff lengthened in the lurid afternoon. More silver-flies were gathering now on the corpse everyone seemed to have forgotten about – except for Chen, of course. Tyaga's snarling seemed to be losing its effect and Yang thought this might be his last opportunity to save their hides.

"I am no traitor!" Yang shouted to the man with the dagger, his voice cracking. He still couldn't bring himself to remember the man's name but he knew he was a lead member of one of the hunting parties. The man's bald head was tattooed in vine-like patterns of a dark brown that matched his hard eyes.

The man stood sinuously, brandishing the bone dagger and causing Tyaga to renew his posturing with vigor.

"Is that so?" The man asked, grimacing. He lifted the dagger and displayed the hilt to all gathered. "This is a Siiwah dagger. But you wouldn't know anything about that, now would you?" In the bright light outside the blanket of the canopy, the tattooed man's dark eyes seemed almost black. Black like the tendrils of hatred which had begun to climb from Yang's heart and slink through his blood.

"That is so!" Yang shouted back, the pain in his shoulder bones unnoticed as he pulled against his guards and tried to rise to his feet once more. "I would never betray the Chiyohs! Not after you have taken me into your home and given me your trust!"

"No," the man replied smoothly, "not our trust. Just his." He gestured to Fei's prone form with the dagger, an angry grin twisting the corners of his mouth. "_I_ am chief now that Fei is dead. Spirits guide his soul." The prayer seemed ironic, glued onto the back of his previous statement but nobody seemed to notice. A few even nodded, acknowledging his claim.

"And it is a mistake I shall not repeat." The man said evenly, causing even Tyaga to back away slightly. The tension was palpable as the new Chieftain – Busiri, Yang remembered his name at last – slowly turned the dagger over in his calloused fingers, contemplating their fate. Yang tried his best to mask his emotions, hoping to hide the spark of fear which had begun to blossom in his ribcage.

He had not even begun to work on making good on the promise he had made to Bei Shiba, and now they would kill him! To his surprise, Yang did not know which he was more upset about. Chen was still weeping beside her father's corpse, but her eyes were locked on his, as if she were trying to communicate _something_.

"Aha!" Busiri said at last, snapping Yang's attention back to his adversary. A wretched smile was slowly spreading across his face, putting his already hollow cheeks into high relief. "Tie them up and leave them in the stables! We shall feast tonight and bury them in the morning!" Busiri barked the orders as one who was accustomed to having his word heeded without question. A few of the crowd whooped their approval and set off to procure the rope. The rest were less enthusiastic, since Yang had been likeable and friendly in his time with the villagers. However, they obliged Busiri and lowered their eyes, not wanting Yang to see their shame.

It took a few of the larger men to subdue Tyaga and it was not without a few nasty bites that they bound his paws and muzzled him. When one of the rough men kicked the eel-dog in the snout for good measure, Yang raged against his own ties, the Air around them whipping in its shared fury. Anticipating the Powers they knew Yang would unleash, one man brought his fist down hard on Yang's head, sending him into the dark.

Everything fell away. Everything except for his promise: _To destroy this village utterly. Kill every adult man and woman in retribution for the slaughter of Bei Shiba's pups in cold blood._


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello, Readers! :D** Just wanted to say hi and ask you how you're enjoying the story. As always, please feel free to PM me with encouragement, critiques and comments.

Events are moving now, and the main event for the arc has only just begun!

**-FF**

**Chapter 10 – Friends and Enemies**

Smell was the first sense to return: the overpowering odor of manure, old straw and sweat with a mossy scent Yang associated with Tyaga's leathery hide.

Next came Touch, and with it the creeping chill of the young night. Something warm but scratchy was digging into Yang's side and his entire body ached terribly, though he could not for the life of him remember why.

Taste brought the rusty flavor of blood which mixed with the pain and made his stomach churn.

A quiet whimpering arrived with Hearing. At first he thought it was someone nearby making the noise but soon realized it was coming from his own throat, an effect of his labored breathing. For a long moment he worked to discipline his lungs and now-racing heart.

It was only when he was satisfied with his self-control that he opened his eyes… and immediately regretted it.

He learned was laying on his front, his head bent uncomfortably to the side. Yang knew he would be terribly stiff but right now that problem paled in comparison to the larger issue at hand. He and Tyaga had been bound and dropped into the corner of the large communal pen in the stables. Yang had always avoided the eel-dog stables during his stay in the village but he knew enough about it from the occasional instances he'd been forced to come here on work-related duties. This central holding pen connected to all the other smaller individual pens and could be used to practice riding and for breaking the spirit of especially temperamental eel-dogs.

Now all the gates around the pen stood open and the first of the eel-dogs to notice their sudden, relative freedom had just begun to pad into the open space. Yang noticed their curved claws digging into the trampled dirt and great nostrils working in anticipation of the kill.

"Tyaga!" Yang whispered harshly, nudging his still-unconscious brother with the heel of his boot. He didn't want to add to his brother's pain but this was hardly a time for sensitivity. Tyaga was lying practically on top of him and his uniform but labored breathing remained steady. "Tyaga!" He called again, kicking harder this time. With a startled grunt the adolescent eel-dog regained consciousness, trying to regain his footing but tripping sideways when he realized his paws had been tied together.

A strangled bark escaped his muzzle as he gasped for air through the leather covering his snout. Born without eyes, a muzzled eel-dog was practically blind.

"Hush, hush now." Yang whispered, wriggling so that he could rest his chin on top of his brother's long neck. He could sense the panic building in Tyaga's tensed muscles but all he could do was continue mumbling a stream of comforting words as he eyed the now half-dozen fully grown eel-dogs pacing at the opposite end of the pen.

"Hurry up, you mangy beasts!" Came a human shout from somewhere outside the pen. Not stopping his whispering, Yang craned his neck to get a better view of the source of the voice. Though it strained his shoulders, Yang could make out the forms of two men sitting in the flickering, orange light of a lamp a little outside the wooden bars. Beyond them was the full dark of night, though the moon shone silver-bright just as it had on the night he and Tyaga had first arrived in the village. For a protracted moment Yang wished he'd just taken the simple road and slaughtered the villagers with brute strength. His original plan had been to instigate a clan war with the Siiwahs and let them do the work for him. But for that he'd needed the Chiyohs' trust. And for that he had needed time.

Time was up, it seemed as one man nudged his fellow and pointed into the pack of circling eel-dogs, perhaps placing bets on which of them would make the kill.

Yang's mind was still a bit muddled and he couldn't seem to find the tendrils of Power which could save them. He'd need to buy time with the only option he had left.

The predators circled closer now, building confidence as they realized that for once there were no men with lashes to hold them at bay. One of them, a brutish male with a blunt snout covered in white scars loomed over them, his tail whipping as if in delight. A dribble of thick, warm spit landed on the nape of Yang's neck as he twisted to meet the eel-dog face-to-face.

"This is such a treat." The eel-dog observed in a slow, baritone mind-voice. A thick, pink tongue whipped out to lap against Yang's cheek. It came away red, Yang noticed.

"You're being tricked." Yang whispered to the eel-dog, now that they were close enough so as not to be overheard by the human guards. Yang threw the mental impression of his words along with his voice, as animals did. For a moment this made the eel-dog brute pause, drool leaking languidly from between his glistening fangs.

"Oh?" The brute responded, a touch of humor echoing in his voice.

"Yes!" Tyaga added his voice to Yang's, but to all human ears his voice was just whimpering against his muzzle.

"I'm on your side!" Yang hissed through his teeth, as if he were speaking of something the eel-dog should have already known.

"Hmm…" The brute mused, the breath whooshing hot from his great lungs. "But it would be so easy to just eat you and be satisfied." His low voice was ponderous, less intelligent than most others of his kind. _Just great._ Yang thought, sarcastically.

"Yes it would," Yang conceded, earning himself a swift nudge-kick from Tyaga, "But… then you would have to live the rest of your life in here as a slave instead of running free and killing as many humans you pleased." He supplied gory mental images of slaughtered villagers in mounds, blood-smattered, dismembered hands holding leather whips and the unimaginably delectable taste of fatty meat. The brute licked his grey-black lips again, pausing a little to Yang's intense relief.

"Is there a problem, My Love?" Came a new mental-voice, this one Yang did recognize. Sidda. The lean but muscular female eel-dog approached carefully, keeping her ears and tail low in submission. However, Yang could tell from the set of her mouth that she wanted nothing more than to tear him and Tyaga limb from limb, with or without her "Love's" permission.

"No." The brute answered curtly, his breath hot in Yang's face. "This ape says he can free us."

That prompted a bark of laughter from Sidda, whose tail lashed restlessly despite her supposed mirth.

"And you propose to believe one of the stupid, violent creatures?" She practically snarled. It suddenly occurred to Yang how stupid he truly had been, here were creatures suffering right in front of him and in the two moons he'd spent here he'd never even thought to help them. Never even thought that they could fight together against the Chiyohs! _Stupid!_

"Don't let them trick you! It's them you want to eat, not us. Not my brother." Tyaga pleaded into his muzzle, sending images of him and Yang running free in the forest, digging with flying-boar piglets, frolicking with otter-geckos in the forest playgrounds of their youth. Yang's breathing hitched as he received the projected mental images too.

A long moment passed as Sidda and the brute appraised them, tails whipping in agitation and claws grinding in the dirt. Clearly the alphas of the pack, the rest of the eel-dogs could only circle and wait for them to make the kill. Yang checked for his Power. It was there, but only a dim ember in place of its usual burning fury.

The brute bent forward and pushed his snout right against Tyaga's forehead and Yang felt a subtle current of communication pass between them. However, Tyaga had not yet untensed so Yang knew the danger had not passed.

Then, the assembled eel-dogs' surprise, the brute took one of his claws and severed the leather straps holding Tyaga's muzzle. Tyaga shook the damned thing from his face as quickly as he could, reveling in the fresh night air and his regained sight.

"Thank you, Serkahn." Tyaga said quietly, his legs straining against their bonds. "I promise Yang will not betray you."

"What?!" Sidda snapped and almost dove in for the kill before Serkahn could stop her. Her mate pushed her aside at the last moment and grumbled a challenge deep in his throat as he turned away from his quarry to face her. From the way Sidda was breathing Yang expected her to begin foaming in rage. The rest of the eel-dogs stopped circling to watch what would happen. One of the human guards tossed a rock into the pen with a shout.

"I remember being free." Serkahn almost whispered in his slow, deep mental voice. Sidda's ears stood erect on her head now and her stance was coiled to pounce.

"I remember not living under the thumb of the humans, with my family, before they came." He continued. His words were meant for Sidda's ears alone and it was only Yang's deep spiritual connection that allowed him to eavesdrop. Even so, Yang felt the impression of mental pictures he was unable to intercept.

"And so you'd trust one, after everything? You'd rather gamble all our lives on this one false hope than protect us? We _are_ your family, My Love." Sidda growled clearly enough for all to hear. Yang realized that despite their circumstances and differences in opinion, she truly did love her mate. Once again Yang cursed himself for ignoring their plight before. He vowed that he would set everything right _and_ fulfill his promise somehow, and that meant protecting the pack of eel-dogs, Tyaga, himself and Chen if he could manage that. Did he have that sort of power? Well, he figured, he'd have to find it and quickly.

"I'd rather risk our lives on hope than to survive without it." Serkahn said solemnly, letting his words project as well. Yang had thought he'd been just a stupid brute at first, but what he lacked in intelligence he made up for in decisiveness. Perhaps that was what it took to be a leader in a place like this, Yang wondered.

By now almost every eel-dog in the stable had wandered into the central pen. Yang even saw a few pups huddling with their mother towards the back. From the sudden hitch in Tyaga's breath, Yang knew he had noticed them too.

Outside the pen, the guards had begun banging on the wooden bars with the crude, stone war-mallets they carried. "Kill them already, ya mangy beast!" One of the men shouted. One of Serkahn's ears swiveled in the direction of the voice, but his open maw stayed trained on Sidda, his stance protective.

"Yang," Tyaga whispered as the standoff lengthened, "we need to do something!" There was only a little fear in his voice now, which gave Yang a measure of confidence. Tentatively, he probed to see if he could touch Earth but found it still and unresponsive. The corner of Yang's mouth twitched, he had a plan.

By now the guards had begun to climb up onto the bars of the cage, leaning in with whips with which to beat the eel-dogs into action. Yang took the opportunity. Eyes shut; Yang opened his palms where they were bound at his back, feeling the space between his fingers. Wriggling, he ungracefully loosened the rope by just a fraction, but that small feeling of Freedom was all he needed to call his old friend, Air.

A sudden and powerful gust pushed against the already precariously perched guards, sending one sprawling face-first into the pen. The other caught himself at the last moment, to Yang's disappointment. _Can't have things go too smoothly, now can we?_

Sidda's eyes immediately went to Yang's hunched form. She knew where that gust had come from, recognizing the scent of it in some preconscious part of her mind.

The other eel-dogs didn't care much for the source of this unexpected treat and descended mercilessly, ripping and tearing until the guard was nothing but ribbons of meat, meting out vengeance by tooth and claw. It didn't take long at all, and the other guard still clung, transfixed to his perch among the bars. Only now did he realize he'd dropped his whip into the pen.

Serkahn wasted no time. Before the guard could even react the big brute crossed the pen in two bounds and leaping, caught the man around his neck, breaking his spine in an audible crunch with his powerful jaws.

"Now will you allow yourself to hope?" Serkahn asked Sidda around the limp body, his sides puffing from excitement and exertion.

The canine equivalent of a smile worked its way onto Sidda's lips.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello, Readers!** First of all, **_GORE WARNING_****!** I told you that things were only getting started, and here they go, but perhaps not in the direction you are anticipating. ;P

As always, please enjoy and feel free to review or PM if you'd like!

** -FF**

**Chapter 11 –Our Savior, Death**

The pack ran silently over the well-trodden village grounds, streaming like black storm clouds between the trees, carrying hearts of vengeful lightning. Yang found himself at the fore of the group, guiding them first into the treeline to deposit the eel-dogs either too young or too old to fight and then back towards the center of the village. Sidda had wanted to keep him and Tyaga up at the front where she could see them, but also because the pack was relying on Yang to take vanguard in the upcoming battle.

As they ran, Yang wondered at the life-paths these animals could have walked if their fates had not been perverted by the meddling of humanity. Perhaps instead of seeking death and destruction, they would have sought peace and joy among the other denizens of the swamplands. Tyaga was a prime example that eel-dogs were naturally good-natured creatures so perhaps, Yang wondered, it was only the humans that were basically evil. Yang set that ugly thought aside for the time being as his lungs began to ache from the quick pace Serkahn was setting.

Sounds of revelry echoed under the canopy from Chen's father's former house, playing contrast to the hateful aura which permeated the night. The pack wove among the stilts of the primitive houses now, melting into the thick moon-shadows whenever carefree pairs of patrolmen wandered into range. They could have destroyed them easily, but Yang didn't want to take the chance of raising an alarm. Not yet, at least.

"Can't believe we're missing the big party!" One guard protested, his arms folded across his broad chest like a pouting toddler. His partner laughed and hocked a loogie, completely unaware of the nearly two-dozen eyes tracking them mutely from the darkness. Yang held his arm out as he crouched in front of Sidda and Serkahn, reminding them that attacking now was unwise.

Once they had at last made their way up to the chieftain's hut, Yang directed the bulk of his forces up into the trees which supported the structure, poised to attack on his signal. He, Serkahn, Tyaga and Sidda took the main ramp until Yang stood right at the threshold of the front door, the portal to the rest of his life as a murderer. Judging by his cowering posture, Tyaga clearly wanted no part of what was to come, and must have assumed Yang was only playing his role to save their skins. Yang had no intention of correcting him.

Chill sweat slicked Yang's palms as he clenched and unclenched his fingers in futility. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong.

The night was too quiet, like the night of the fire which already seemed so long ago.

Hesitating, Yang turned to scan the trees around them, noting only the movement of wind through branches and the still bodies of his eel-dog allies.

A low grumbling from Serkahn prompted Yang to commit to action. Seeing no other way forward than straight, Yang drew back and kicked open the wooden door with all his might.

Every eye within the crowded, poorly lit room turned to Yang's young frame, mantled in the doorway by the towering eel-dogs. They, with their snarling maws and leathery grey-black hides must have seemed like abominations born from the womb of Night herself. A wooden cup clattered to the ground somewhere.

The scent of roasting meet met Yang's empty stomach and for one dream-like moment he wondered if they were eating Ex-chieftain Fei. However, before anyone could think to move as much as a muscle, the unthinkable happened.

…!

Fire, brimstone and thick sulfur exploded in the night like the birth of a star, shattering trees and searing the Earth as it poured from the now-blazing shadows of the night all around them. Shouts – human shouts clambered for Yang's attention as he realized he'd somehow ended up face-down on the floor and had bit his lip hard. The startled yelps of eel-dogs punctuated the building roar growing in Yang's ears as he fought to get his feet underneath himself.

Something strong grabbed him then by the beaded leather cords Yang wore around his neck – A hand! – dragging him to standing. Yang's unnaturally-colored eyes drew level with Busiri's brown ones as he was pulled up off the ground.

The hate he saw within their depths raced Busiri's choking grip to steal his breath away.

Around them the world was still exploding. Men and women alike cowered beneath the sturdy table and pushed each other down as they stampeded for any exit they could find. There was a splintery hole in the wall that hadn't been there before, Yang realized distantly.

Busiri shouted something at him, but the words sounded like they were coming from very far away, through a tunnel. The vine-like tattoos that covered his bald head seemed to slither like vipers in the wildly dancing shadows. Yang's baffled thoughts must have shown on his face because Busiri made to throw him from the hut in outrage. All of this Yang noted passively, regretting a little that he wouldn't be able to lead the eel-dogs to freedom like he'd hoped.

A solid shadow drove into the both of them just as Busiri had finished winding up his throw, sending them all to the ground in a tangle. But this shadow had fangs, and claws, and a name.

"Tyaga!" Yang shouted, rolling instinctively as they hit the ground, he crouched unsteadily. The roaring in his ears was more of a high-pitched whine now, the shouts and snarls from outside were growing more distinct.

Yang's brother snapped at Busiri as they rolled amongst the debris in the room, smacking into one of the long benches and causing the villagers hiding beneath it to shrink away in fear. Tyaga was using his weight and long neck to his advantage and had gotten the large man pinned beneath him, but Busiri was slippery, curving out of the way of Tyaga's fangs at the last possible moment.

Struggling to his feet, Yang lurched forward to help but ended up on his hands and knees.

Busiri pulled a dagger from his waist in one deft motion, calling upon his skills as a lead-hunter. It was the same one which had rested in Fei's heart just that morning. The bone blade gleamed in the red firelight as he brandished it awkwardly from beneath Tyaga's wildly thrashing bulk.

At seemingly the exact same moment, Tyaga's jaws finally found purchase on Busiri's neck and Busiri's blade found its way between Tyaga's ribs. Blood sprayed in a graceful arc as Tyaga tore the treacherous man's head clean from his shoulders, crunching his skull mercilessly. The blood smouldered and steamed as some of it was cast into the encroaching flames.

Yang gathered himself and rushed to support his brother when he realized exactly what had just happened, seemingly unfrozen by the spectacle of gore. More blood – Tyaga's blood – joined Busiri's on the floor as Tyaga coughed hoarsely with his punctured lung.

"I- I'm sorry." Tyaga managed to say between his racking coughs. "I'm sorry!" He repeated again and again until Yang managed to mentally impress the need that he not try to verbalize his thoughts in case it made his condition worse. Still, however, Tyaga continued his endless apology in his mind and heart as Yang struggled to arrange his brother in a somewhat comfortable position for the time being. Luckily, he also had the presence of mind not to remove the dagger lest Tyaga bleed out entirely.

Yang felt helpless as a messenger-hawk in a typhoon, his mind still reeling from his second blow to the head in a matter of hours.

_Enough._

The thought caught him completely unawares, finding him stranded somewhere between defeat and desolation.

_Enough._

The thought came again; bringing with it the clarity Yang only felt when he bent the elements. The cries of battle resolved themselves into the clang of metal on metal and the snarling of beasts among a forest in agony.

Tyaga's breathing was laboured but steady – for now, Yang thought – but there was nothing more he could do to help. As if drawn upwards, Yang stepped over Busiri's still-warm torso and turned to the jagged hole in the wall and out into the chaos beyond.

The ground rose up to meet Yang's feet as he stepped from the hut, forming a sturdy if crude staircase for him to walk amongst and above the carnage, the Earth reacting to his sudden and stubborn certainty. The Siiwahs, with their flame-red painted armour Yang remembered from his first brush with humanity, had appeared in legion.

_Enough._

They were making quick work of the empty-handed Chiyohs using long wooden pole-staffs tipped with curved metal blades and bone spikes, harvesting a path of destruction wherever they stepped. To Yang's detached amazement some of the Siiwahs poured fire from their hands as they punched and kicked with efficient, direct movements that sent their enemies sprawling even as they burned. In return, some of the Chiyohs retaliated with Water, redirecting the scalding steam of boiling pond water with the flowing technique Chen had shown him just that morning. Fire and Water clashed in a fit of steam and sparks and death. Yang continued walking.

_Enough._

The eel-dogs were fighting indiscriminately, tearing through ranks of humans regardless of their clan or loyalties. Yang searched around to see if he could spot Sidda or Serkahn but found neither hide nor hair of either.

"Eeeeeeeeeeenough!" Yang bellowed as he leapt from his rocky pedestal. He braced himself for impact with a stubborn set to his heart. He _willed_ the Earth to soften his fall and it surrendered to him, rippling and tearing from the force of his impact, spraying dirt and uprooting trees which toppled, still burning. He tried his best to avoid the eel-dogs but they were tangled too closely with the human fighters to avoid them completely. Clumps of fighters, canine and otherwise were buffeted by a hail of stones and knocked over by the churning of the ground beneath them.

Rising sinuously, in an angular stance that felt at one with the bedrock Yang sensed beneath the soil, he stomped his foot, counter-balancing himself with his arms. Eight columns of rock rose up around him like a compass-rose and for a moment hung suspended, waiting for him to command them. With a grunt, Yang struck one of them with his fist and sent the columns charging into the surrounding battle, unstoppable as charging flying-boar. These were easier to aim and so they tore through the humans with the speed and deftness of Busiri's bone dagger.

For an instant Yang's anger and grief welled up against his will and threatened to break his tenuous hold on Earth. With no small effort, however, his emotions relented and Yang continued to carve a path through the battle which had quickly begun to become aware of his presence.

The eel-dogs welcomed his entry into the fray and attacked with renewed fervor. They overwhelmed a good number of the human warriors in that moment alone, driving them to the ground among the embers and underbrush to make their kills.

Turning from one foe to another, Yang continued his angular dance, striking with the decisiveness he had seen in Serkahn, displaying the valor he had known in Tyaga and decimating with the brutality he had learned from Busiri.

The tide of battle slowly turned in their favor, though the fire was raging uncontrollably now that there were no Waterbenders left conscious to extinguish it inadvertently.

With a flash of warning which he could only attribute to One and The Other, Yang ducked in a heartbeat. Above him, where his head had been, a silver blur zinged through the air and lodged itself into the charcoal-black bark of a tree. Yang admired the finely crafted weapon for a moment. It was shaped like a three-pronged star of steel, no larger than the palm of Yang's hand with an empty hole at its center perhaps to add lightness or for ease of throwing? Yang's pondering was interrupted as he was forced to swiftly dodge sideways as two more cut through the burning air towards him. One skimmed the back of his shoulder, leaving a bloody trail but nothing that would hamper his ability to fight.

Angered, but in control of his emotions, Yang rounded on his newest foe. He –No, Yang realized – _She_ sauntered out from between two wildly burning trees as if she hadn't a care in the world, as if she were on a peaceful afternoon stroll.

Perhaps a few years older than Chen, her thin shoulders and torso were protected by a light, lamellar overcoat inlaid with intricate patterns embellished with gold leaf. Metallic, individually-fingered gauntlets guarded her forearms and hands. Her legs she kept unburdened with light hardened-leather shin guards and black leather pants which hugged her curves for flexibility. Yang appraised his opponent's equipment with a cursory glance and noted that she had already drawn another two of her silver stars.

What held Yang's attention was her expression. She was _reveling_ in this chaos and destruction. Beneath short-cropped black bangs her heavily lidded amber eyes were bright with the promise of death. For a terrifying moment those amber eyes reminded Yang entirely of his own wolf-mother's, but he had never seen such hatred there. Save, perhaps, on that one night Bei Shiba had entrusted her wish to him.

Yang pushed that thought aside as foolishness and settled back into the deep stance of Earthbending to meet his foe.

The girl raised her arms in the Firebending form Yang had come to recognize and gave a small but jubilant giggle.

"Shall we dance?" She asked, her voice a little raspy but underlaid with a silky and dangerous poison.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello, Readers! :D **Sorry about the cliff-hanger, but we can't have things too easy, now can we?

** -FF**

**Chapter 12 – Meanwhile**

Korra's eyes flickered open with a start. Her normally dark skin was pale in the moonlight and city-glow streaming through her bedroom window as if she'd seen a ghost. The muted white noise of urban life pressed upon her silent breathing, interrupted regularly by her husband's soft snoring.

What had her dream been about? Korra wondered, pushing away her blankets and sitting up against the headrest, curling her knees to her chest. Already the memories were pouring out of her like water from a bathtub.

Korra's husband slept soundly, facing towards the edge of the bed in soft slumber. An ambulance wailed among the quiet din of the city outside, screeching the sense of emergency which still reverberated in Korra's marrow.

Fragments of images danced before her inner eye: Fire, trees, fangs and something else. _Something important._ Korra ran her fingers through her thick, black hair which she kept long and untied, reaching to rub the stress from her aching shoulders.

With a protracted sigh, Korra slipped out of bed and into the corridor. There, the soft, thin nap of the carpeting hugged her bare feet in the otherwise chilly hallway. With a deep breath she banished the cold with Fire, warmth emanating from her stomach in rolling waves. It felt good to use her bending for her own benefit for once, Korra thought. Better yet to not be spending the night in her special apartment in the Parliament complex or on an overnight council.

_Maybe it's the Council's endless bickering that's giving me nightmares_. She thought wryly, grinning wearily in the dark.

At the first door she paused and turned the handle quietly, cracking it open just enough to peek inside. The soft yellow glow of a plug-in nightlight illuminated the room from within, casting shadows on the gently sleeping forms of her two darling children. Their tan skin was a soft mixture of Korra's own and her husband's, blushing tawny in the yellow light.

Korra extended her spiritual senses along with her physical ones but still no sign of trouble was eminent. No dark spirits lurking, no warnings of any sort. In fact, it was the absolute _lack_ of anything out of the ordinary that was beginning to set her teeth on edge, it was like her mind and reality had undergone a schism and were now standing on either shore of a broad river.

A river. Korra remembered something about a river from her dream, bursting its banks in a violent deluge, swallowing men in primitive, painted armor. Their screams echoed in her mind as she silently clicked the door closed and meandered from the corridor into the main room of their apartment.

The view, as always, was spectacular. One wall of Korra's penthouse suite was constructed entirely of thick, noise-proofed glass. Beyond it, the rising spires of Republic City flashed with vibrant neon and glaring spotlights despite the late (or rather, very early) hour. Towering cranes stood among the sprawl like skinny, metallic spirits. Even as Korra watched the cranes swiveled and hefted, adding to the eternal growth of this city which had become the hub of humanity and the bridge between the Four Nations.

Admiring the view, Korra had to concede there were certain advantages to being the Avatar, for all its boring council drudgery. However, she missed the days of adventure, of powerful enemies and simple moral decisions which had always seemed to make her choice so simple: Fight, or fight. When evil had a human face and obvious motive and it was her duty to banish it with the power of her hands and heart.

Now things were not so simple. Her decisions contained layers and layers of ulterior motives and hidden agendas. She had been forced to learn the dance of political alliances and acknowledge the veiled evils of poverty, corruption and even the bored hatred which seemed to plague the City as of late.

To add to Korra's worries, Jenora, who had recently been promoted as the youngest ever Head Monk of the Eastern Air Temple had sent an urgent missive. Its contents reported increased sightings of dark spirits which were souring crops and blighting rural villages. Korra still owed Jenora her life for her help in a pivotal moment in the Battle of Harmonic Convergence and it was the least Korra could do to look into the problem. Regardless, the news left a sour taste in her mouth.

As Korra approached the window, an apparition in the glass startled her almost into lashing out with the Fire already humming in her fingertips.

Putting her hand to her throat and pushing down her fear, Korra rose again to meet the pale, foreign face in the place where her reflection should have been. The face appraised her with a solemn expression. Blue, piercing eyes bored into her from the oval, masculine face in the glass. With a shock of recognition Korra noticed the blue arrow-tattoo which capped the man's bald head.

_Aang?_

The face reacted with a sad but indulgent smile. The expression called other buried memories: Iroh, guiding her through the spirit world as a child.

_Yes, Korra._ Aang responded. The mouth of the apparition moved as if stuck in a continual half-second delay of his words, adding to the eerie nature of the former-Avatar's appearance. However, Korra's heart was fit to burst with joy at seeing her spirit-mentor's face after all her years severed from her memories of the previous avatars.

"I've missed you so much." Korra whispered, reaching out to place her hand on the glass beside her not-reflection.

_I cannot stay long_. Aang interjected, his words already unraveling at the edges. _I had to warn you, on behalf of all of your past lives. There is a dark force at work in the world. The legacy of Unalaq has risen and threatens the balance of Man and Spirit._

"Wait, Aang! Don't go!" Korra cried in a hush as Aang's apparition began to fade.

_I am sorry,_ he responded, his features growing indistinct. _We are all proud of yo….._

As he faded completely, Korra found herself weeping with both palms braced on the glass, staring back at her own bright-eyed reflection.

"Don't… don't leave me again." She whimpered, knees crumpling. The thin city-hum made a stark background to her quiet sobs.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13 – Heart of a Pearl**

The room in which the senate met was decorated in the intricate "nouveaux-modern" opulence that was characteristic of any building constructed after the city's ruin during harmonic convergence. Korra thought the straight, bold lines and cold accents of steel with tiled mosaics belied a sense of bloated self-importance that Republic City had contracted as an after-effect of Unalaq's rampage. The reconstruction had taken more than a decade, with the devastating extent of the damage the Vaatu-infused Waterbender had inflicted on the city in a little less than ten minutes. However, the damage the attack had caused to the psyche of the city would take decades more to heal.

One positive effect the attack had precipitated was the formation of a senate of bi-annually elected representatives from throughout the Four Nations. The leaders of the time had agreed that if the other nations had come to the aid of the Southern Waterbenders, the entire crisis could have been averted. These senators would advise the President who could enact changes only with their support, barring times of emergency. Essentially, Republic City had come to hold sway over the entire known world, acting to smooth out international dilemmas where they arose. In a strange way, Korra thought, the city was fulfilling the role of an Avatar, acting as a bridge between the elements and the nations which represented them.

Korra had been snapped up as the Republic City representative without any real campaigning on her part. She supposed this was on account of the role she'd played in protecting the city, but also because her spiritual guidance had become extremely valuable now that the veil which had separated the spiritual and physical worlds had been sundered.

The senate meeting table was round to facilitate easy discussion and had room for twelve senators plus the president himself should he decide to join them. Inlaid on its rich, chestnut wood was a map of the Four Nations. The map was topographical, without any borders to exemplify the nature of the senate itself. Illusory mountains of polished marble, jade forests and plains of tiger's eye brought the image to life, and each capital, city and large town was marked with a precious stone to signify its value. However, there at the very center of the map sat Republic City, represented by a pearl the size of a large grape. Another little reminder of that creeping self-importance the city was falling victim to.

President Eido took his place in the plush, high-backed chair reserved for him, the signal for the rest of the senate to sit in unison. Korra snuck a quick smile at her former mentor Airmaster Tenzin, lone senate representative of the air nomads from across the table. He responded in kind as he nestled into his own thinly upholstered seat, imposing smile-lines on the deep wrinkles which seemed to give him a permanently troubled expression. Tenzin had become more light-hearted in general after his experiences in the spirit world, but he had retained the habit of frowning perpetually.

Other notable figures around the table included Desna, son of Unalaq. How he'd ever managed to get a seat on the senate mystified Korra, but his ideas were no less clever and helpful despite his heritage and so the senate accepted him with only a little suspicion. Iroh, grandson of Firelord Zuko and former United Forces General also lounged in his seat a little to Korra's right. Ever an advocate for protecting the weak, Korra was glad to count him among her political allies and personal friends.

"I call this, the three hundred-twenty third meeting of the Republic Senate to order." President Eido stated, sounding less than enthused. In the corner of the high-vaulted room, a secretary began scrawling her recording of the session.

The first of the problems brought before the senate were trivialities, as usual: Squabbles over rising taxes, imports and exports. Should they intervene in the Fire Nation's weapon's development program? What should be done with the surplus of rice that was currently rotting in Ba Sing Se granaries? Of course, this mind-numbing exercise took up the better part of two hours.

After what seemed like an eternity, Eido finally brought up the one issue which had been nagging at Korra's mind since her surprise visit from Aang a week ago.

"Article 15 on the list today is the situation of the dark spirits assaulting small villages throughout the Earth Kingdom." Eido continued in the same uninterested tone, but Korra caught the glimmer of his eyes as he checked to see her reaction to his news. Korra schooled her features and listened to the other voices which spoke out first.

"This is not the only instance of Dark Spirits attacking rural villages," Desna pointed out, "there have been reports from both the Water Tribes of similar events." His crossed arms and draping sleeves gave Korra the impression of a purple strait-jacket.

"Word from the Fire Nation arrived today." One dark-haired woman added. "Massive dark spirits have been sighted at sea, and already two freighters have been lost."

This sparked an outburst of discussion, with only Korra and President Eido abstaining. Some of the Earth Kingdom senators were accusing the Fire Nation of angering the spirits by working on their new jet-powered airplanes and rocket-missiles. In response Tenzin and the three Fire Nation senators banded together to calm their accusations, lest a new conflict arise before they could solve the first one. All the while the three Water Tribe representatives huddled and whispered amongst themselves.

President Eido slammed his palm down on the polished tabletop, silencing the bickering immediately. His dirt-brown eyes, a result of his mixed Fire and Earth Nation roots scanned the room. The secretary had long since given up trying to record the chaos.

"The spirits are still new to this world, and we must be welcoming to them. But…" The President said, his gaze lingering on Korra again. "…We cannot allow them to run rampant over us. We must nip this _potential_ problem in the bud, before we find ourselves in repeat of the events of twelve years ago." At his words a visible shiver ran through those of the senators who had been present to witness Unalaq's devastation personally.

Korra coughed lightly, to clear her throat.

"With respect, Eido," Korra did away with the formalities, since the senate and president were meant to be on equal ground within the Meeting Room. "As you are aware, it is not the _actions_ of humans that spirits react to, but their _feelings_. I'm afraid that there may not be any quick solution to this, not when the problem rests in our people's own hearts." Korra spoke confidently, pleased that every eye was watching her carefully, though some more approvingly than others.

"I agree with Avatar Korra." Tenzin chimed in, and Korra caught Iroh nodding in agreement from the corner of her eye.

"And I, as well." Desna said quickly, unfolding his arms and standing. "My… father was not a wise man. He tried to use the spirits for his own personal gain and was consumed by it." This, Desna said without strong emotion, simply as a statement of fact. "But he could only do all that because he understood the spirits so well, better than he understood humans, actually."

"Is there a point to all this?" President Eido interjected, still only grudgingly accepting Unalaq's son's presence among the senate.

In response, Desna squared his shoulders and addressed the President directly. "The Avatar is right. We've all noticed the growing discontent in the world, ever since Harmonic Convergence. Sure, there has never been such peace among the Nations, but what of the people who make up those nations? Life in the city is all anyone could ever dream it to be, with automobiles and sky-scrapers and high-society, but what of those who live outside?" Desna spoke clearly, determined to make his point. For emphasis he swept his hand over the surface of the table, indicating the whole of the Four Nations. Compared to the whole world, the pearl that was Republic City seemed very, very small.

Korra had found herself an unlikely ally, it seemed.

"And what do you intend to do about it? Go out and solve the world's problems one at a time? There will always be poverty and petty theft and everything else that makes humans what they are." The Eastern Earth Kingdom representative argued, now standing as well with his hands braced on the table. Korra had known Den Li would argue any point Desna made out of sheer malice. After all, his wife had been one of those killed during Unalaq's attack.

"Of course not!" Desna shouted back, now leaning forward and visibly fighting to keep his anger in check. Korra knew that feeling all too well.

"Then what?" Del Li spat back, sneering.

Desna took a moment to compose himself as the senate waited impatiently. When he spoke again, it was slowly and without anger, a little like how Korra remembered him from when they had first met, but not nearly as soulless.

"I suspect there is a focal point somewhere in the world that is spreading this darkness. My Father once spoke of a phenomenon like it. If this focus; this person on whom this dark energy is balanced were to be… removed, the issue of the dark spirits might resolve itself." Desna seemed a little unnerved at his own proposition of hunting down some innocent for slaughter, but the truth was the truth and if the death of one would mean peace for many… Korra could find no argument with which to object.

As thoughtful silence reigned in the Meeting Room, it seemed no one else could think of an argument either.

"But… how do we find this Focus?" Akara, a plump, middle-aged senator from the Fire Nation asked after some time. At this the room descended once more into mumbled conversation concerning the nature of this 'Focus' and how they would know him or her for what they were. Korra noticed that Tenzin was not taking part, which was unusual. Instead, he sat back in his chair, stroking his now-white beard absently with his eyes focused on nothing in particular.

It seemed President Eido had also noticed this peculiarity as he called the Senate to order once more and asked Tenzin to share his thoughts. The room looked on expectantly as the aged Airmaster searched for words.

"I'm not sure that I'm right, and in fact I really I hope I'm not." Tenzin said, beating around the bush.

"What is it, Tenzin?" Korra asked, trying to express her support.

"When you defeated Unalaq," Tenzin continued, speaking both to Korra and the Senate as a whole, "it was because Darkness cannot exist without Light, and Light cannot exist without Darkness. When Raava was destroyed, it was not long before she was reborn to fill the void of Vaatu's opposite. So…"

The room waited, not yet having grasped the meaning of his words, though Korra had caught the scent of Tenzin's trail and her heart skipped a beat.

"So you think that Vaatu has been reborn in some way?" Korra supplied, her hands balled into fists below the table, wishing they could tighten around Vaatu himself and wring his life force into oblivion.

"Not just Vaatu," Tenzin admitted, as if he had been mulling over this idea for some time now, but hadn't wanted to bring up the possibility. "When Avatar Wan died with Raava inside him, he set in motion the Cycle of the Avatar, of which you, Korra, are the result. So I say what if, and this _is_ a big if, when Unalaq fell with Vaatu inside him, he began a new cycle. A _Dark _Cycle."

The senate didn't know how to react to this revelation. In the past twelve years there had been no hint that Vaatu had re-entered the world. Korra certainly hadn't felt anything that would have signaled his return, but the thought suddenly struck her that perhaps he had never truly left at all.

"Then the source of all this unrest and the reason dark spirits are appearing, is actually a Dark Avatar?" Iroh asked uncertainly, his voice breaking this new silence.

"Exactly." Tenzin said at last, barely more than a whisper. Korra had never see him look so tired, as he stared up at her with those piercing blue eyes, no less sharp for their age. He looked almost… apologetic.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14 – A Dance**

For all the commotion of battle and blazing flame, the air felt unnaturally still. Shadows and smoke played with the fire as they danced a pattern old as time itself, climbing trees and leaping gracefully among branches as if in merry pursuit of each other.

However, Yang had no opportunity to be fascinated by such terrible beauty as he locked eyes with the pit-viper of a girl who stood opposite him. He knew that any motion at all would set her off, and he needed a plan first. Immediately he regretted that his silver tomahawk lay tucked beneath his mattress back in his hut.

As their stand-off lengthened, her jagged smile grew less natural and more feral, the jubilant flames leaping in her amber eyes as well.

She blinked.

That was the only warning Yang received as two silver stars sped by him, one missing by a hair's breadth and the other carving a thin slit above his left eye as he turned away at the last possible moment. The girl was so quick Yang could hardly follow her precise movements as he sprang into action as well, dropping into the Earthbending stance.

He flicked his foot up, bringing with it a shield of dirt that blocked the spray of flame she sent at him. The mossy peat took the brunt of the attack but crumbled into singed pieces - not enough Earth for him to control properly.

The viper-girl didn't give him time to strategize. Already another star whizzed towards Yang's face, wreathed in flame this time. Barely escaping the whizzing, silver meteor Yang drove forward and flipped, dragging up more feeble peat to create a temporary barrier.

He heard a barked laugh from the other side and braced for impact…

Nothing.

Yang didn't want to risk peeking around to take a look, but he knew he was a sitting duck where he was. He didn't have time to lose either, since every moment Tyaga… He ripped away from his train of thought. Dwelling on what he couldn't fix was the last thing he needed to worry about with his life on the line.

The roar of flames was overpowering and already Yang was beginning to feel the clutch of dehydration from his exertions and the blinding heat. He listened desperately for any clue as to the girl's movements to no avail. Surveying the area, noticing the positions of the trees and larger, half-buried boulders, Yang felt a plan coalescing in his mind.

"Hey!" He shouted out, not entirely expecting a response. "Please, listen! I have no reason to fight you!" Yang continued, his voice confident though he was still searching frantically for any sign of danger.

Another silver flash – too fast! – The silver star struck him in the forearm he brought up in reflex to protect his face. It was scalding hot, cauterizing the wound immediately. Howling, Yang hobbled forward gracelessly, nearly tripping.

Using the ephemeral curves of the flames the girl had traveled around his barrier to catch him unawares, her movements direct but unexpected like the Fire she commanded.

"You have every reason to fight me." She said with certainty. "One of you Chiyoh dogs drowned our Chief just this afternoon with your dirty Waterbending. We have come in retribution." Her steady, raspy voice seemed precocious for her small frame, but the hatred therein was more animal than anything.

Like the deluge of a river bursting its banks, realization flooded Yang's mind. _They are here for the same reason I am - Revenge._

"I am no Chiyoh!" He shouted back, though not quite loud enough for anyone other than the girl to hear him. This earned him only a cryptic smile in response.

"I know you, Shen Zhiwang. I have watched you." The girl's half-smile broadened as she spoke, as if what she'd seen had amused her. "Your Earthbending and blood may not be Chiyoh, but you killed my brother the night of the River-battle. Now I will kill you."

This news stunned Yang as if he'd hit himself with one of his own stones. In this state, it was all he could do to tumble away as the girl cried in fury and redoubled her assault. It was only the incredible pain of fire washing over his ankles that brought him back to the moment.

Despite his shattered stance, Yang managed to wrench a boulder from its tangle of soil and roots to fling it in the girl's direction, as if by silencing her he could remove the terrible guilt blossoming in his heart. She dodged it easily but was not prepared for the shower of smaller pebbles Yang flung in her face from the opposite side. Snarling, she made to wipe the grit from her eyes, giving Yang a few valuable seconds to rip the silver star out of his arm and fling it away with a shout.

With difficulty Yang regained his form and began his counterattack, the pain in his arm and legs pushed aside. Despite the girl's preternatural agility she couldn't avoid the worst Yang could throw at her, those familiar black tendrils of rage had begun to wrap tight through his guts, lending him strength he didn't know he had. She flailed once as he landed a particularly solid blow with a fist-sized rock to her temple and fell dead away to the dirt.

A moment of silence followed, but Yang didn't let his guard down. This girl was tricky, nothing at all like the blundering tribesmen she fought alongside.

Something didn't fit here, and that feeling of incongruity extended to the fact that a tribe of swamp-dwellers knew how to Firebend in the first place. But these were thoughts for another time, he decided as he turned to consider whether he 'ought to strike her a second time to ensure that she didn't rise again.

It was a sudden pang of morality that stopped him. The girl looked so pathetic, laying face-down in the smouldering moss, her long, elegant black hair splayed in the mud and her slow but perceptible breathing coming in strangled puffs. Yang raised his hand, grasping the same rock which had hit her the first time and stared down at her prone form as the fire and shadow and smoke danced about them.

Yang had the distinct impression that he was being watched and judged. Not by any external force but from within his own soul. One half of him hoped that he would show mercy and take the girl prisoner. Yang considered this, acknowledging the wisdom in that option and the intelligence he could gain from her. What did she know about the affairs of the Chiyohs and Siiwahs? Why had she been watching him? The Other side of the argument spoke illogically in feelings of rage and the intoxicating glory of killing. Yang's vision went red with the intensity of it and the Earth and Air shivered away from him as if in mortal fear.

Yang raised his hand, ready to kill.

And stopped. The horror of what he had been about to do froze him solid, yet he felt as hollow and fragile as a bubble of swamp-gas. _What had happened to him_? Tyaga's apology after beheading Busiri came back to him now and he realized that he hadn't been apologizing to Yang for his actions or even for getting hurt. He was apologizing to Busiri, even though the man had meant to kill him, even though he wouldn't have spared the death of a feral eel-dog a second thought.

The stone fell from Yang's paralyzed hand and thumped on the soft ground, tumbling to a stop. The wildfire raged oblivious to the chaos in his mind and heart, banishing the last of those hateful tendrils like a gardener pulling stubborn weeds.

With a choking noise Yang stepped back and tripped over an out-jetting of rock, exposed by the ravages of his Earthbending. He spine jarred as he landed heavily, not caring enough to brace his fall. He'd been berating the likes of Busiri this whole time as brutal and stupidly violent. How far had he fallen that he had so nearly become the same evil he despised?

The girl was stirring now, but Yang couldn't bring himself to act. He'd already missed his chance, he knew that. However, he was certain he couldn't bring himself to kill her now even if he could. The only option left was to try and hold her captive somehow.

Wildly, Yang cast about for anything he could use as a rope or handcuff. He rose to his feet numbly and stumbled away from the girl's prone form, back towards the center of the village. The now-diminished shouts of battle rose up now and again as trees toppled without warning, complemented by a chorus of snarls and yelps as the tides of battle rushed one way, then the other.

There was no cord or rope to be found anywhere, and the fire had slipped into the village proper by now and was chewing away at the outlying huts with voracious intensity.

Time was up. A flash of blue pushed aside the lesser orange flames for one blazingly hot instant. The air pushed on Yang's eardrums with a sudden pressure that dazed and momentarily blinded him, pushing him forward almost off his feet. Clumsily he swung around to face the clearing where the girl had been.

A series of concentric circles of ash centered around the girl's hunched form. Blue licks of flame still lingered among the charred dirt, pale and unnatural. The girl stood slowly, planting her palms on her knees for support. For a moment Yang thought she might fumble and slide back into the dirt, but then he caught a glimpse of the blazing fury in her eyes, almost maddening in its intensity. She took one step forward, her knees shaking slightly but gaining strength. Then another, and another, until she was running flat at him.

Yang barely dodged the searing tongues of flame which preceded her flying kick and stinging strikes. Her stance had changed now, her fingers and palms acting as spades to spear the air, violet-blue jets of flame acting as the cutting blades which extended nearly an arm's length beyond. Yang thought he saw blood prickle up on the tips of her fingers from the scalding heat.

Quick as thought, his body reacted in a flurry of preconscious movement. She would strike; he would deflect or dodge and launch his own retaliation. Earth was there, he could _feel_ it, but in his new mind-space Air leapt in to fill the void, catching the girl off guard. With open palms he shepherded the thermals in the air to push her off balance while constantly reacting to her assault by simply not being there when the blows landed.

The rest of the combatants, Chiyoh, Siiwah and eel-dog alike paused to watch their furious duel among and within the flames, as they joined the ageless dance of beautiful destruction.

Mustering his dwindling strength, Yang took to the air on a summoned orb of wind, fleeing momentarily. The girl spun on him, her blades of flame lengthening into blue whips that flailed after him, missing by inches but upsetting his Airbending with their sudden heat. The orb shattered and Yang flew forward, willing the Earth to carry him forward and finding himself on a moving shelf of solid bedrock.

Yang's flipping between the elements caught the girl off guard, as her whips of blue flame pulled back momentarily. Her amber eyes tracked him as he traveled circles around her, slowly building up a wall of rock to pen her in.

When she realized his intentions, her eyes widened with rage and a primal roar ripped from her lungs. Yang felt the little hairs on his neck and arms stand erect as the Air he still held close to him began to vibrate.

Then came an all-consuming burst of light.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15 – Tag Team**

The air itself exploded.

Yang found himself tumbling uncontrollably under his previous momentum as he was thrown from the Earth as if by a bucking eel-dog. In a bone-grinding collision Yang smacked into a nearby tree, driving the wind out of him.

Little stars flickered across his vision as Yang gasped emptily on his back, staring up into a canopy of flames. The great tree next to his groaned out its death cry as it snapped completely in half under its own weight, the base of it completely decimated and black. Somewhere in the back of Yang's mind was a half-formed question of _why_, but he felt like his head was still tumbling and couldn't make any thought stick.

Vaguely Yang thought he heard Chen's voice, but he couldn't understand how that was possible. That is, until he finally mustered the resolve to turn over onto his side, gaining leverage with his good arm.

Chen was dancing. With broad, arcing movements she ushered a stream of water which twisted about her like a constricting panther-snake. Every burst of blue flame the dark-haired girl threw at her was parried gracefully, eliciting hissing puffs of steam where Fire and Water met. The two were evenly matched; every time one tried to climb for the advantage of high ground the other would batter them down into the pit Yang's Earthbending had created. Their furious footwork left delicate patterns in the mixture of dirt and ash.

With a cry of pain Yang pulled himself up to his hands and knees, every bone protesting, every muscle screaming. With a dull thought Yang realized he couldn't feel his feet, but he knew better than to look now. However, the fear of what he might find if he _did_ look sat in his stomach like a cold stone.

Idly Yang noticed a trail leading to the decimated tree from where he had been when the light struck. The dirt was wet and steaming, as if the main brunt of the attack had been led away with water. However, this thought fled as well as Yang painfully gained his feet. The best he could do was to lean heavily on the trunk of his tree, the dry moss between his fingers cracking and crumbling. Yang wished he too could crumble into nothingness as opposed to spending one more moment in his own shrieking body.

An external cry drew Yang's attention back to the battle. Chen was down, pinned under the other girl's foot as she prepared to make the killing blow.

"No!" Yang cried, reaching out his good arm as if to push the viper-girl away from his friend.

In response, a thick pillar of Earth sprouted suddenly from the ground, knocking the girl aside just as she began to bring her stroke down. It caught her in the jaw, sending her sprawling away and giving Chen a moment to backwards-somersault to her feet, though she was now holding her left ankle gingerly. Luckily, her Waterbending was not too poorly affected by her new, one-legged stance as she summoned her now-dwindling supply of water from the steaming puddles that remained of the swamp's many ponds.

Earth, Fire, Air and Water swirled through the burning grove as Yang joined the fray, quickly pushing the Siiwah girl against the wall of rock despite her increasingly ferocious attacks. Chen would draw her attention with a flourish of Waterbending, leaving her side open for Yang to hurl stones or send jets of wind to further unbalance her.

The first glimmer of fear crossed the girl's face as she stuck her hand into the pouch at her hip to find she had no more of her silver stars to throw. The blue color of her flames was also gradually reverting to the natural orange as Yang noticed sweat droplets begin to form on her brow. After one final push, Yang and Chen brought the Firebender to her knees and Yang, in a flash of insight, brought his palms up, driving the Earth upwards and inwards to create a heavy pile of stones which covered the girl to her neck.

Like a snared animal she strained against her prison, amber eyes wide and indignant.

"I'll _kill_ you!" She spat, before breaking into wracking sobs. "I-I'm sorry, Sozan, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She repeated between her struggling and crying.

Chen looked at Yang dubiously, clearly unsure of how to proceed. Gratefully, Yang realized she had no intention of finishing off the girl which meant he had time to think up another plan. In sure, solid movements Yang built up the girl's prison, adding weight and compacting the rocks just in case the girl took it into her head to attack them again.

"Thank the spirits you showed up when you did." Yang sighed, turning at last to Chen. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was still something terribly wrong, though his thoughts were still too muddled to pinpoint to source of his anxiety.

"I was looking for you, Shen Zhiwang." She replied with a little humor, still stubbornly using his full honorific.

"No," Yang corrected, "my true name is Yang. I am not Death, nor anyone's savior. I'm just a boy." He pleaded, trying to impress upon her his need to be called by his own name again. Perhaps it was hearing the viper-girl call him Shen Zhiwang which brought about his sudden revulsion towards the title.

Chen looked at him strangely for a moment, chewing absently on the corner of her lip.

"Fine." She said at length, "but no one will ever convince me you're _just_ anything. I've never seen anyone use two elements at once."

Yang smiled a little at her concession, but it did strike him as strange that other humans could only use one element at a time. To him, that would be like only having one facet of his personality, like being only half a person. After all, how could a person be only stubborn, or only adaptive or direct or free? Yang could remember being able to feel Air for as long as he could remember, and it was only his dealings with humans that let him touch Earth. There was no doubt in Yang's mind that soon he would tame Water as well, though he wasn't quite sure he even wanted to master Fire and all its destructiveness.

But then Yang remembered something else, the thing that had been bothering him.

"Tyaga!" He shouted, eyes going wide. Without waiting to see if Chen would follow he bolted as fast as he could to the main hut where hopefully his brother still lived. A few times he stumbled on account of the numb blocks of wood his feet had become, but every time he would push on and launch back into his headlong sprint.

As he neared the hut, Yang noticed that the fire was chewing away at one of the last supporting stilts of the structure. He propelled himself up through the hole in wall with some clumsy Earthbending, slipping in sideways and knocking into one of the long wooden benches as he fell. There was nobody hiding beneath them anymore, Yang realized absently.

Tyaga lay slumped exactly where Yang had left him, and thick sliver of fear pierced Yang's heart as he pulled himself over the blood-sticky floor to where his brother lay. The feeling of relief was beyond words when Yang saw his sides moving in shallow, painful breaths.

"I'm here, I'm here." Yang whispered, feeling for the hilt of the dagger that was still blocking the worst of the bleeding. In the glow of the fire outside Yang noticed that the area around the wound had turned deep purple as Tyaga's blood pooled beneath his grey-black skin. This wasn't good. Yang was no healer, he couldn't set bones with a thought like One could, like the time Yang had broken his wrist falling out of a tree.

Yang whirled around as he heard a sharp intake of breath behind him, only to find Chen silhouetted in the main doorway. He had almost forgotten about her. Without words Chen delicately set herself down beside Tyaga and began feeling the area around the wound. Yang had been about to object when he noticed that she seemed to know what she was about and resigned himself to watching anxiously. The world seemed to be rocking slightly and Yang wasn't sure if it was his own stomach doing nervous flips or it meant that the final strut holding the building aloft was about to snap like dry tinder.

"Stand back." Chen said calmly, her voice only a little louder than a whisper. She didn't have to tell Yang twice was he hastily scooted back to give her room.

She began by breathing deeply, her splayed fingers hovering in the air above the dagger hilt. Yang felt a faint thrumming in his bones, like the distant drumming of a slow heartbeat. Thin strings of water slithered in through the windows and the gaping holes in the walls and roof, coalescing into a larger stream that swirled above their heads. Slowly, it changed directions through no visible urging by Chen herself and nudged its way under the hilt of the dagger. At this Tyaga stirred and whined pathetically and it was all Yang could do to rub his snout comfortingly as Chen worked her magic.

The area around the dagger glowed a pale blue, as if whatever Chen was doing was releasing a soft energy that Tyaga was soaking up. Already Yang thought Tyaga's breathing was coming a little more easily.

- _Crack_ -

The entire structure shook as its foundation began to give way. Chen fought to maintain her concentration, but the blue glow was dimming and that labored edge had snuck back into Tyaga's breathing.

The rolling sensation intensified and Yang knew it was not coming from his own emotions. They were going down.

- Snap! -

The floor lurched and Chen screamed, the healing water losing its form as the ground seemed to fall out from underneath them.


	16. Chapter 16

**Hello, readers! :D **Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter to you, but I've been traveling and have only now had the chance to finish this chapter, short as it is. Some interesting turns of events in this one, hope you enjoy!

**-FF**

**Chapter 16 – Alien**

At the last moment Yang wrenched the Earth upwards to slow their descent, but it was not enough to stop them and the contents of the room from being and flung about wildly. Yang vaguely wondered if this was what it might be like to be one of the flying boars he'd seen caught by a lemming-gator - getting thrashed around until your bones broke.

With a metallic skitter Yang saw Busiri's dagger slide across the floor and was relieved that at least he didn't have to worry about Tyaga getting stabbed a second time. When they finally came to a grinding halt the only sound for a long while was Chen's coughing as she pulled herself up out of the corner of the room where pretty much all the furniture was now piled. Yang lay on his back, unwilling to move until he was absolutely forced to. He felt utterly drained.

Carefully they worked together to pull Tyaga's heavy form out of the wreckage and into the open air. However, with the roaring inferno at the heart of the forest fire growing closer, they were by no means in the clear.

Tyaga seemed to be doing better to Yang's immense relief and was even able to support some of his own weight as they struggled on. However, his breathing was still choppy and every once in a while he would cough blood, but the fact that he was moving at all gave Yang hope.

They hadn't made it very far before a new sound became discernible among the roar of flames and the shuffling crash of trees toppling and huts collapsing. It was a choppy-whirring sort of noise that was followed quickly by a churning wind that made the burning branches flail like living things. As Yang looked up, a deeper shadow among the night sky blotted out the moon. Easily the length of four sky-bison end-to-end and about half as wide, the huge creature slowly made its way overhead, pouring what looked like water into the burning forest.

It was only when Yang realized there were _people_ standing on strange platforms around the perimeter of the main body that he realized that it was no creature, but an enormous flying structure! The whirring noise was coming from a series of rotors in the rear which seemed to be propelling the whole thing forward, and the water was coming from Waterbenders who were actively targeting the worst of the flames. Already the heat in the air seemed lesser, though it wasn't enough to stop sweat from beading up on Yang's forehead in the new humidity as the water vaporized.

Chen had stopped as well to ogle at the incredible sight while Tyaga still hung limply between them, too exhausted to raise his head. In a flash, a sword of light swept through their clearing, briefly illuminating everything bright as day for an instant. Yang scrunched his eyes tight against the blinding glare as the light swung back over them and lingered, illuminating the insides of Yang's eyelids a bright red.

"Spirits save us…" Chen muttered, holding Tyaga tighter than before as the floating palace reversed its rotors and slid to a halt above them.

The scalding rocks bit into Azula's skin as she cried and squirmed helplessly against them, courtesy of that _bastard_ Chiyoh boy. How _dare_ he interfere with her sacred revenge? Not only for their chief – who was a fool anyways – but for her poor brother, Sozan who had been too gentle, to kind to have been a proper warrior. With each struggle Azula cursed the other Siiwahs who'd bullied him into joining their raid two months ago.

Ah, Spirits, she burned. Every nerve screaming with the force her raw throat was too weak to muster. Already her thoughts were clouding with heat and pain. It was only through sheer force of will that she retained her slipping consciousness, which fled like water through her fingers. Azula couldn't understand what had happened. She'd been fighting Shen Zhiwan, the murderer she knew to be an Earthbender, but then he had bent the Air itself to help him, which even in her agonized state Azula knew was impossible.

_Impossible… but still…_ Azula's frayed thoughts tumbled in her head like beans in a pod, all dry and tough. By the time the great shadow of the airship blotted out the sky, Azula was too far-gone to notice, too far-gone to care when water rained from the heavens in great rivers like the one that had claimed her brother's life.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17 – New World**

Yang huddled with Chen under the heavy blanket they had been offered after being plucked from the burning forest. Yang was glad for the warmth since although heat still lingered on his skin, he felt as if his insides had run cold as a mountain spring. The interior of the flying machine was stuffy and windowless, which made Yang feel like the walls would close in and crush them at any moment. To make matters worse, the entire craft would sometimes lurch as thermals and sudden winds pushed it away from the inferno below. It was only his experience flying with Air and Chen's trembling grip on his hand that kept Yang from falling prey to full-blown panic.

At first, when they were being helped aboard by a number of Waterbenders who'd strapped them into harnesses attached to sturdy cords, the rescuers had made to leave Tyaga behind. When it became clear that Yang would sooner stay behind himself than leave without his brother, they finally brought down more ropes and awkwardly cinched the large eel-dog into them. Once aboard, a young, soft-eyed crew-member took pity on the trio and agreed to finish what healing Chen had not.

The water in the woman's basin glowed bright blue as she swept an undulating stream across Tyaga's body, like waves on the shore of a lake. From where they sat, Yang noticed Tyaga's breathing ease and some of the tension in his limbs melt away, as if he didn't have to keep so tight a grip on his own life-force.

After what felt like an eternity, Tyaga returned to consciousness with a start, almost knocking the kind healer backwards from her crouch. Yang quickly pushed off his blankets, moving to console his confused and startled brother and to whisper soothingly while stroking his long snout.

"Where… are we?" Tyaga whimpered, an edge of panic cutting into his word-impressions. Yang spent a moment looking around the cramped area before answering.

"We are in a… flying house." Yang supplied, grappling to find the right words. Truthfully, he had no idea how a structure of this size could be made to float, let alone move where its masters directed it. Yang shook his head as he remembered the huge volumes of water the Benders had been dumping onto the blaze, realizing that all that must have been stored up here as well.

"Is he alright?" Chen asked, crawling closer with the blanket still mantling her thin shoulders. Her pale complexion appeared almost spirit-like in the dim, bluish light of the healing water.

It was the healer that replied; "He should be alright, but he will need some rest. It's a good thing we found you when we did." A dark cloud passed over the woman's dark-skinned face before she continued. "His injuries were not from burns, though. What was going on down there?"

Chen and Yang caught each other's glances for a split-second, but their expressions gave nothing away.

The flight had been a slow one, after the initial emergency of fire-fighting had passed. Three days the trio had spent wandering the corridors as the airship's crew scurried about like ants. Both Yang and Chen had felt confident that their account of a sudden blaze and collapsed hut had been taken without question by their rescuers. However, Yang couldn't help but feel a splinter of doubt in his heart.

He and Tyaga had been wandering up on the main deck as the sun set in a beautiful burst of reds and oranges that spread across the now mountainous horizon, light peeking out of valleys like luminous gems strung together.

"You think we did the right thing?" Tyaga asked suddenly, moving to copy Yang's posture leaning on the railing despite being unable to actually _see_ the sunset. Yang pressed his mouth into a hard line, thinking about how to answer that one.

Should I tell the truth, the whole truth, about the promise? After all, it had almost gotten both of them killed on a number of occasions. For a brief moment Yang wondered what had become of Sidda and Serkahn, and the dark-haired girl for that matter.

"I do." Yang answered at last, feeling less than certain.

"But how can you be sure?" Tyaga asked, almost rhetorically, his long tail whipping back and forth on the metal deck in agitation.

"I'm not." Yang said truthfully, glad that he could at least produce some small act of honesty. "I don't think killing is right, but we didn't really have much of a choice, now did we?"

Tyaga's head drooped a little in thought. "I guess not." He grumbled, the hint of a whine slipping out. "But maybe we could have found another way? It's not fair for them to turn us into… this." He continued, gesturing to himself by tilting his head back slightly.

Yang surprised Tyaga and himself then by moving in for a hug. After the initial stun wore off, Tyaga coiled his long neck around Yang to return the affection.

"You're not anything but who you've always been. You're my little brother and I'll always love you." Yang told his brother firmly.

"But… with Busiri…" Tyaga whimpered softly. If eel-dogs could cry Yang's shoulder would surely be drenched right now, he realized. The thought of his brother in distress tied Yang's insides into knots and sent a few tears to his own eyes.

"No, Busiri left you no choice. It doesn't matter if it was right or wrong when you weren't even allowed to make the decision for yourself. I won't allow living with humans to mold you into something you're not." Yang said all this firmly but gently, still holding his brother close.

Tyaga pulled back a fraction, hesitating. "But Yang, I'm not worried about myself."

Yang blinked, his mind wheeling to grasp all the implications of what that meant. He had no time to react, however, as Chen trotted up with the healer-woman – Meera – in step with her.

"We're just about there!" Meera announced as she strode up. Yang and Tyaga had pulled back from their embrace the moment they noticed they were not alone.

"I think I see it!" Chen cried, noticeably more joyful than Yang had ever seen her back in the village. Something about that didn't add up to Yang, but he certainly didn't want to begrudge her happiness.

Sure enough, splayed against the reddening sunset, the great spires of a human city rose up at regular intervals. The towerss in the center of the city extended the highest, as if to spear the sun itself on its descent. As they drew closer, Yang finally began to realize the absolute enormity of what he was seeing. The emotional upheaval of a few moments prior set aside in the glory of the spectacle they were now flying over.

"Smells like a busy place, this Ba Sing Se." Tyaga said, crinkling his snout in distaste. Yang couldn't help but chuckle quietly at that.

"Busy is the half of it." Yang replied, more mentally than otherwise. "The Earth City's as long and wide as the swamp itself!"

Beside them, Chen was cooing in delight and Meera was laughing heartily at their reactions. When he turned to look at them, Yang found Chen staring back. As they locked eyes, Yang's heart stumbled in its beat for a moment. The glow of the sunset played off the joy in her eyes, making them sparkle mischievously. However, if Yang had to pick what really captured him in that moment, it was her perfect smile, like someone who had lived a life in service to their master and suddenly found themselves without chains to bind them. Perhaps, Yang realized, that was not too far from the truth.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18 – Another Birth**

She knew the moment she felt her heart stop. It sat so much more heavily in her chest than it ever had in life. The Siiwahs had many myths about where souls went after death, mostly involving spirits and gods, but in an all-consuming moment of terror Azula wondered if perhaps there would be nothing for her except eternal darkness.

"_Azula?"_ Came a familiar voice; familiar and yet sounding as if the speaker were on the verge of tears. Azula struggled to pinpoint the source, but found her body unresponsive, her perception slowly drifting up and out. The profound freedom of suddenly feeling _limitless_ made her sense of dread lessen slightly. Perhaps becoming nothing would not be so bad, she thought. It would certainly be better than spending one more instant in her own pain-savaged body.

"_Azula, is that you? No, it's too soon for you." _This time Azula recognized the voice as her brother Sozan's. As she opened her Third Eye, she was momentarily blinded by a vivid world of fantastical plants and a wild, multicolored sky.

"_Sozan!"_ She cried in a voice that was not quite her own. She leaped forward into her older brother's open arms, savoring the smell and warmth of him – like charcoal. "_I thought I'd never see you again._" She whispered, her voice raw with emotion. They had been close since childhood, though she had always been the dominant sibling. Often she would protect him from the brutish bullies of their clan and in no small way, Azula realized she blamed herself for his death.

"_It's not your fault."_ Sozan replied serenely, reading the thoughts plain on her face. For a long while Azula cried freely for what felt like the first time in an eternity. She cried out her guilt and shame for being unable to avenge her poor brother, and for the fact that she knew he wouldn't have wanted her to try in the first place. The whole time he held her close against his chest and stroked her long, black hair lovingly.

"_I – I'm sorry, even so_." She said at last, pulling back slightly so she could stare up into Sozan's warm, amber eyes which glistened with held-back tears. Over his shoulder, just far away enough to provide privacy, spirits had appeared to observe them. Some of the larger ones stared openly while others flitted between the oversized blossoms playfully, keeping their distance. Two large white-scarred eel-dogs stood among them, conspicuously.

Sozan accepted Azula's apology wordlessly, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

He had been about to say something at last when he was interrupted – a thudding shiver ran through the meadow. The once-peaceful sky churned bruise-purple and the spirits fled, keening in pain.

Again the thumping noise came, rippling through the spirits and causing them to undergo hideous transformations, sprouting claws and spikes and fangs, they thrashed and began attacking one another.

Sozan pulled Azula close against himself protectively, the absence of his heartbeat ringing loud in Azula's ears.

_Thud thud_, _thud thud._ The sound was coming faster now, from all around. With a start, Azula realized she recognized it - her own heartbeat.

The sensation that came next felt like being lifted up by some great, cold claw. Like the hand of Fate itself deeming her unworthy of this paradise.

"_Sozan!"_ She cried, pulling against the overpowering force that had already lifted her up into the roiling clouds. She saw her brother shout something back at her, his hands raised to the sky, but couldn't make it out against the sudden crack of lightning and thunder.

_Thud thump, thud thump._ Azula's heart struggled on as Life thrust itself back into her battered body. Still penned in her stone prison, she let her neck arc limply so she could stare up into the pre-dawn sky, now clear violet among the leafless, charred canopy.

Swift as thought, a winged shadow flashed across the sky. So fast, Azula thought it might just be a figment of her imagination. It was only when the silhouette doubled back and came to a spiraling landing in the battle-torn clearing that Azula truly made sense of the apparition.

The dappled, grey eagle-wolf folded her nimble cream-feathered wings tight against her body as she padded up to her prison. The she-wolf's amber eyes were so like Sozan's that for a moment Azula's tears threatened to make an encore. However, this was reality, and no place for stupid emotions. With a firm thought Azula smothered her sentiment and leveled her best haughty glare on the beast.

"Come to eat me have you?" She taunted, her dried-up voice cracking. "Too bad. I'm not dead yet_."_ Azula grimaced, but was too weak to even struggle effectively against the stones. From the neck down her body was nothing more than a vaguely dull ache. As she was, Azula just had to hope that the eagle-wolf wasn't too hungry as to try and snap her head off there and then.

"_Don't be stupid, human_." The eagle-wolf responded.

Now, _this_, Azula had not expected, and for a moment she wasn't inclined to believe her own ears.

"Though you are cooked nicely." The she-wolf mused, licking her muzzle in a way that made Azula genuinely nervous. The voice was definitely coming from the creature, but no sound beyond a low-pitched grumbling was audible. It seemed that the words were being planted directly into her mind, a notion that Azula was not at all at ease with.

"H-how can I-" Azula began.

"Because you were dead." The she-wolf responded promptly, obviously having expected the question. "Your mind is open now, and there's no going back." Azula tensed as those old, amber eyes drew closer, piercing and appraising her very soul.

"I am Bei-Shiba." The beast announced, inclining her head imperiously. If Azula hadn't been so confused and terrified she would have thought the action humorous on an eagle-wolf. At the time, however, it was all Azula could do to nod meekly, still trying to school her own features into her signature superior gaze. From the amused twinkle in the beast's eyes Azula could only assume that she wasn't doing very well.

"I'm going to give you an option now, human. One that I think you will take." Now the eagle-wolf was toying with her. "I'm going to offer you revenge."

Korra's private airship docked without fanfare in Ba Sing Se, where she was to establish her Base of Operations in searching for this supposed Dark Avatar. When the Senate had decided to send her personally to root out the source of their troubles, Korra hadn't even bothered to argue. She knew she was the best, if not the only choice.

Initially, Korra had tried to help the servants Eido had sent with her to move the supplies they'd brought into their new headquarters – A squat, stone building among the lower-class ring at the base of the city – but she'd been shooed away. '_No job for The Avatar, Ma'am'_ Korra mocked internally, letting only a little of her true emotions appear on her face. To calm herself, she pulled out the slip of construction-paper she kept tucked in her breast-pocket.

'Hav a safe trip, Momy! From: Sokka, Tophie aand Dady!' The inscription was written in big, blocky letters of different colors, by Toph's hand, no doubt. Then, below the letters was an adorably crude drawing of their family together in a stick-house. It always brought a smile to Korra's eyes to see herself carrying her children in one arm and her husband in the other in the image. _I'm sure 'Dady' wouldn't be too happy to know this is how his daughter sees him_, she thought with a smile.

Having resigned herself to being useless, Korra folded the letter back up and tucked it away carefully. Without a backwards glance she strolled out the door and into the waiting city, ready to set her teeth into the first genuinely interesting task she'd had in years. As she faced the rising sun, just peeking over the Great Wall, a quiet ball of excitement grew in her chest, filling her with a joyous sense of purpose.


End file.
